


A Kiss To Build A Dream On

by jdrush



Category: Quantum Leap
Genre: AU, Banter, Body Swap, F/M, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Humour, In a way, Kinda, M/M, a bit of angst, it's complicated - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-17 00:22:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 42,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29091243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jdrush/pseuds/jdrush
Summary: Due to the actions in "The Leap Back", Al is now the one leaping, while Sam is back at the project, trying to get him back. Through an twist of fate, Al has leaped into Sam's old college girlfriend. Can Al complete the mission without falling in love (and into bed) with his best friend?
Relationships: Sam Beckett/Al Calavicci, Sam Beckett/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 6





	A Kiss To Build A Dream On

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: Been a long time since I wrote one of these, but I believe all rights to these characters belong to NBC; MCA/Universal, and Bellisarius Productions. Well, except for Allie, Josie, Dr. Andrews, and Margie. They belong to me.
> 
> AUTHOR'S NOTE: There is one homophobic slur that is not a major part of the plot, however I wanted to warn readers in case it might be triggering.  
> AUTHOR'S NOTE PART 2: This is an AU, where Al is leaping and Sam is back at the project as his observer. The reasons for this situation will be explained in the story. For the sake of clarification, this story relies on the theory that it was Sam's mind and soul that leaped through time and his body remained at the Project. This means the observer would see the person Sam leaped into, not Sam himself. Likewise, back in the Waiting Room, visitors would see SAM, not the person he leaped into. I apologize in advance to any purists who disagree with me, but as more than one person has told me, time after time: "Do whatever it takes to tell the story."  
> AUTHOR'S NOTE PART 3: I wrote this story nearly 20 years ago. It's perhaps the most complex one I've ever written. It took me nearly two years, with breaks in between when I got hit a wall or got stuck. It's also still one of that I'm very proud of. No betas were harmed in the making of this fic. All mistakes are my own. More notes at the end of the story.

**_“In a place that won’t let us feel,_ **   
**_In a life where nothing seems real,_ **   
**_I have found you, I have found you._ **   
**_In a world that’s moving too fast,_ **   
**_In a world where nothing can last,_ **   
**_I will hold you, I will hold you._ **   
**_Our lives will change when tomorrow comes,_ **   
**_Tonight our hearts drown out the distant drums,_ **   
**_And we have music all right, tearing the night..._ **   
**_A song, played on a solo saxophone,_ **   
**_A crazy sound, a lonely sound,_ **   
**_A cry that tells us love goes on and on..._ **   
**_Played on a solo saxophone,_ **   
**_It’s telling me to hold you tight,_ **   
**_And dance, like it’s the last night of the world.”1_ **

He could feel the electrical energy surrounding him, possessing him, guiding him—Christ, he hated it. Not knowing where he was going, having no way to stop it, no way to even direct it. He was sure he’d never get used to it. He wondered if Sam ever had.

It wasn’t something they had ever gotten around to discussing, and then, well, it was too late: roles got reversed, things went even more caa-caa. At least Sam was home, safe and sound. Al could do the job knowing Sam was finally out of danger. And maybe, with his mega-brain intact, he’d be able to reprogram Ziggy. Then one day, Al would be home, too.

He could hear The Voice periodically. He tried to block it out, but never could. It permeated his being as strongly as the electric charges. It didn’t hurt him, at least not physically. Mentally, it felt like a good old-fashion mind-fuck. His captors in Vietnam could have learned a thing or two from The Voice.

Right now it was comforting Al, speaking in hallowed tones, quietly reaffirming what a good job he was doing, how proud he’d be of himself and all he had accomplished, that someday soon he could go home...blah, blah, blah. Al hated The Voice, even more than the complete loss of control over his own destiny. More than anything else, before he died, he longed for just one round alone in a boxing ring with the owner of THE VOICE!!

He was tired and lonely and he so desperately wanted to go home, even though he didn’t know what home was anymore. At times he wondered if he even HAD a home. Little flicks of memories would come to him at off-times: rows of beds, lots of kids...one little boy off alone, scared, unwanted, unloved. He thought it might be him, a part of his past, but always the picture would fade at the edges just before he could grasp it, hold it, cling to it.

He had been at it for over a year now, and he wasn’t getting any younger. One year he would never get back. One year gone, but then again, he had no concept of time anymore anyway. Dates meant nothing to him, days of his life disappearing, never to return. Only one thought kept Al sane and gave him hope: Sam’s home. That’s all that mattered to Al...Sam’s safety.

That was something Al missed even more than * home*...Sam Beckett. They had become so interwoven these past years—first with Sam's leaping, and now with Al's—that Al would sometimes get confused. Home—Sam—the words were interchangeable. For Al, Sam WAS home, the only home he knew.

He missed Sam terribly, wanted so much to see him again; maybe go out for a beer together and laugh once more, like in the old days. “Please, can’t I go back home to Sam yet?” he begged his unknown, unseen adversary. He hated to beg, but he had long ago been striped of his pride. If begging would leap him home, then begging it would be.

It didn’t matter, though. He had long ago given up expecting an answer—“Soon” was the closest thing he had ever gotten—but he couldn’t stop asking. Maybe, one day, they would take pity on him and he’d get his wish.

But not this time. He could already feel the telltale signs, those subtle changes that announced an impending leap-in. He made one last silent prayer that this would be the final leap, the one that would lead to home, and tried to prepare for whatever bizarre situation he would be stuck in this time around...

~xxxXxxx~

**Thursday**   
**May 14, 1973**   
**AL:**

As the wall of fog and confusion started to lift I became aware of two things immediately. First, the music playing somewhere in the background, soft melodic strains, Jim Croce’s ‘Time in a Bottle’. Sometimes things like that helped me determine WHEN I was in those bewildering first moments of the leap. This time all I could determine was that it was post-early 1970’s. Beyond that was anyone’s guess.

The second thing I noticed, almost simultaneously was that I was suffocating. Something was across my mouth, gagging me, cutting off my oxygen supply. My eyes flew open but I couldn’t see anything except the black night. Instinctively and involuntarily I started to flail in panic, as ‘my’ body’s self-preservation mechanism kicked in.

I heard a soft moan, which vibrated against my mouth, only then realizing what was going on...soft, warm, wet. Lips. Only one thing in the world felt like them, and even with my magna-foozled brain I remembered I had kissed enough of them in my life to know, beyond a shadow of a doubt. I closed my eyes, leaned back and relaxed, my back coming into contact with a hard odd-shaped object—a window crank. I was in a car, probably the backseat, with an inexperienced, but extremely enthusiastic, kisser.

Teenage mating rituals...gotta love ‘em.

**_“If I had a box just for wishes,_ **   
**_And dreams that would never come true,_ **   
**_The box would be empty except for the mem’ry of how,_ **   
**_They were answered by you.”2_ **

I became aware that my ‘partner’ was getting a little bolder, as a tentative tongue licked across my lips. Well, when in Rome, eh? Or France, as the case may be. I let my hands slide through the short silky hair of my newfound friend, enjoying the pleasant tingles that even this clumsy kiss was sending throughout my body.

A shaky hand strayed towards my chest; the soft circular motion was a strange sensation but felt surprisingly good. (Gee, my ‘host’ must have VERY sensitive nipples.) I melted into the touch, and let my hands do some roaming of their own.

_**“But there never seems to be enough time,** _   
_**To do the things you want to do once you find them,** _   
_**I looked around enough to know,** _   
_**That you’re the one I want to go through, time with.”2** _

EXTREMELY flat-chested. Oh, well, that never mattered to me before. Yeah, I dug girls with big racks, but all females are beautiful, in my opinion, just ‘cause they’re female. I heard a loud appreciative groan as my fingers flicked over the tender nubs and the kiss became even sloppier and more intense, telling me I was on the right path. I guess I should’ve felt a bit guilty. After all, this poor girl thought I was her boyfriend—not someone old enough to be her grand...ahhh, her dad. But, hey, I had to play my part, right? And how many times did I get to have such a pleasant leap-in?

I let my hands continue to skim lower, following down the flat, flannel-covered stomach on their journey to Paradise. I hit the waistband—jeans. Shit!! A skirt would’ve been easier to deal with. Oh, well...nothing I hadn’t successfully removed before. But as I attempted to unsnap my ‘partner’s’ pants my fingers brushed across that warm forbidden place, and instead of a deep valley I encountered a hot rock-hard lump.

“YIKES!!!” My eyes flew open once more as I jumped back and smacked my head against the passenger’s door window. “SHIT!!!” My eyes closed again in pain, my hand already massaging the sore spot on my head. This couldn’t be happening! It had to be a sick joke. HE leaped me into a car with a *MAN*! Real funny, buddy boy! Is this my punishment for not stopping when I should have, huh? Okay, so I’m a pervert, I admit it. But I didn’t deserve THIS! Did you enjoy watching me make out with this goddamn...?

“Oh, boy. Allie? Are you alright?”

No. It can’t be. Oh crap! I KNEW He had a twisted sense of humor but this is downright SICK!! The granddaddy of all cosmic enemas.

Wait. Maybe I was wrong. I cracked my right eye, dreading what I was sure I would find. Oh my God...I wasn’t wrong. “Sam?” I groaned, warily.

He had pulled away from me slightly and even in the modest light afforded me by the dashboard and half-moon, I could now see it was indeed my future collaborator and best friend, Doctor Samuel Beckett. Much younger that I had seen him in a long time, and definitely redder...the boy was blushing down to his toes.

“Allie, are you hurt? I, oh boy, I knew this would be a bad idea.”

_Allie? I don’t remember him mentioning an Allie before. Hell, I don’t remember jack-shit. Who could it be? Alicia? Alberta? PLEASE don’t let it be an Alfred!! Damned Swiss-cheese memory!!_

“Allie...?” His voice was tender and full of concern, and I realized I hadn’t answered him.

“Ah, yeah, yeah, Sammy—I’m okay. Jesus! Just a little, um, startled.”

He visibly relaxed somewhat, reaching out a hand to cover mine, which was still gingerly rubbing the back of my head. “Does it hurt if I do this?” he asked gently, sounding every inch the physician I knew he’d be one day—maybe already was for all I knew. I STILL didn’t know what year I was in.

I shook my head ‘no’, which was the truth. It had been just a tap, but seemed enough to dampen the ‘romantic’ mood.

“Maybe some ice will help. I, ah, I better get you back to the campus.” He opened his door—yep, I was right, we were in the backseat—and came over to open my door. Chivalry apparently wasn’t dead. He helped me out and had me seated in the front seat before he climbed into the driver’s side. Well, that was one thing to be thankful for: if it had been my car, I’d’ve blown my cover for sure. I had NO clue where my dorm was.

“I’m really sorry about, um, you know,” he stammered, not looking my way. He turned the key but sat still, his cheeks a deep shade of crimson. “I’m really, I can’t believe I took such liberties with you—that I did those things...” He worked up the courage to look at me, finally. “Can you ever forgive me, Allie?”

I looked over at my best friend, the one with the saddest puppy-dog eyes I have ever seen—the one who was apologizing for copping a feel out on Lovers’ Lane. Geez, only my Sammy! “Sure, kid…ahhh, it’s okay, Sam.” (Well, as okay as deep tonguing your best male friend can be.) “There’s nothing to forgive. I, um, I wasn’t exactly idle either, ya’ know.”

He smiled nervously in uncertain agreement as he started to drive; an uneasy silence descended upon us, broken only by the music on the radio. “You Are The Sunshine of My Life”. Not exactly one of Stevie Wonder’s more arresting songs. AM Radio. Oh, God, it WAS the early 70’s. Lord help me.

Actually, the silence was rather nice as it gave me the chance to do some sleuthing. The shapely legs that had peered out from the floral mini-skirt as Sam helped me from the car told me Allie was definitely female, which in itself was quite interesting. I had never leaped into a woman before, well, at least not THIS way.

By flipping down the visor to ‘check my make-up’ I got my first glimpse of Allie: 18, 19 years old at the most, she had chocolate brown eyes (shockingly similar to my own), high-lighted by long feathery eyelashes; high cheekbones; button nose and full bow lips; her skin like peaches and cream. The long dark brown hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail and wispy bangs framed her face perfectly.

Not overly gorgeous, I concluded, but very attractive in a non-glamorous way, and her almost complete lack of make-up showed how naturally pretty she really was. The kind of girl who would never assume she was beautiful but who drove the boys crazy with her girl-next-door freshness and innocence. If I had to compare her to anyone, she closely resembled that actress, Valerie...Somebody. Damn, what was her name? She was one that 70's show, "One Step at a Time" or something like that. I think she ended up marrying some musician. Oh, well...

The ride back wasn’t long, just a few minutes or so. We didn’t speak, but I learned from the radio it was Thursday night, 11:00 pm, and 59 degrees. Hmmm, late spring, perhaps? He did mention the campus, so school was still in session, wasn’t it? Where was MY Sam with some real information? I also learned from the artists that the station played—Paul Simon, The Mamas and The Papas, James Taylor—that Sam was in his musical glory. I may not remember much about my ‘real’ life, but I did remember Sam and I had NEVER agreed on music; his favorites, to be blunt, were on the ‘wussy’ side of the scale.

As we passed the gates to Syracuse University, I was able to narrow my scope a bit more—1973. It was the only year he had attended here. Don’t ask why my Swiss-cheesed brain could retain something that trivial but could conveniently block out WHY he was here only one year. I know I met him shortly after he left here, but I couldn’t remember when, or where or how...and dammit, I STILL couldn’t remember him ever mentioning an Allie!!

He pulled up to the curb of Haven Hall and was already out of the car and by the passenger door before I had a chance to open it. He took my hand gently and helped me out...always the gentleman.

“I, uh, don’t suppose you’d allow me to walk you to your room?” From anyone else I’d suspect an ulterior motive, especially after the car incident, but not Sam. Standing there, bashful eyes cast downward while he continued to hold my hand, he was as harmless as a newborn kitten.

“Yeah, sure, I’d like that.” Hells bells, at least this way I’d FIND my room. We walked silently to the second floor and paused before room B201. End of date. “I, ah, guess this is goodnight, huh Sam?”

He looked down at me—he was a good six inches taller than Allie—and gave me a sad little smile. “Yeah, I guess so.” I could see he really didn’t want this evening to end. Poor guy. He didn’t date much, maybe once a semester, and look how it turned out for him. Damn, he probably wouldn’t go on another one for a long time, his self-confidence completely shattered. Maybe I could help—after all, it was kinda my fault.

“I had a great time tonight, Sam, I really did. Maybe we can do it again sometime, well, not EXACTLY the same thing but...”

His smile widened and he laughed, his eyes sparkling again with life. “Then you’re not mad at me?”

“Heck, no, why should I be? I have to share some of the blame, right?”

“So, you still want to study with me Saturday night?” he asked, eagerly.

_A study date? On Saturday night? Was he serious? Wait a minute. This was Sam Beckett we were talking about. Yep, he was serious._

Not really sure what I was there to do, I decided to go with my gut feeling. “Yeah, sure, I’d love to.”

He seemed so relieved. “Great! I’ll try to stop by the library tomorrow night to walk you home. If I’m not there by 11:30, have Ted do it. I don’t want you walking this campus at night by yourself.”

“Ted?”

“The night-guard...are you sure you’re okay?” His hand timidly touched the back of my head. “You may have a small bump there. Maybe you should put some ice on it.”

“I’m fine, Sam, really. Stop worrying about me. Umm, where are we meeting Saturday, in case I don’t see you until then?”

“Eggers Hall, first floor—the graduate student’s lounge, around 7:00pm. Don’t forget your notes. I’ll, um, see ya’ then, then.” He gently placed his hands on my slender shoulders and gave me a quick chaste peck on the cheek. I stood motionless for a second, staring up into that kind guileless face I knew so well...

_WE CAN TOUCH!!! Oh, my God! In all the confusion and excitement I didn’t notice his arms, his hands, his lips_

...then threw my arms around my startled friend and crushed him in a death-hug. It wasn’t quite the same as having MY Sam, but it was close enough. Tears sprang to my eyes as I clutched my very confused date to me. There was a moment’s hesitation before I felt his arms surround me, pulling me close to him, our entire bodies making sweet complete contact. After so many years...

We got to hold on to each other for only a few precious seconds before the housemother caught us and shooed Sam out of the building.

~xxxXxxx~

Ya’ know, I don’t think I’ll EVER get used to this leaping shit. It’s weird enough to be in an unfamiliar male body but a female one? Especially one that was so recently being fondled by my best friend! And all those underthings to deal with: bras, pantyhose, lacy frilly panties. I had always liked taking ‘em off the ladies in the past but THIS was completely different. It didn’t help matters to know that tomorrow I’d only have to put them all on again!

After several unsuccessful attempts to unhook the binding apparatus, I pulled it up over my head and threw it viciously across the room. I made a mental note to ask Sam if there was some sort of trick to it. Likewise the pantyhose, which I managed to snag and run as I tried to take them off. Once naked, I rummaged around for a pair of PJ’s or a nightgown or something. I opened the double-door dresser and discovered a full-length mirror. Unable to stop myself, I studied the image that looked back at me.

_Bertinelli! That’s the actress's name! Valerie Bertinelli! Whew, I feel SO much better now._

It wasn’t difficult to admire my latest host, err, hostess. Perfect hourglass figure; gorgeous gams; flat tummy; well-shaped (dare I say?) perky breasts. I turned around—she looked just as good goin’ as she did coming. A bit pale, needed some sun, but the view definitely made my mouth water. God, there was nothing quite so sexy as a sweet young lady, but it had been YEARS since I had one THIS young.

_Too bad it’s you in there, eh, Bingo?_

I was barely conscious of letting an experimental hand brush across my chest until a shiver ran down my back at the extremely sensitive skin I found there. I added my other hand, and cupped my new acquisitions. I don’t know why I did it...just second nature when I was around a good-looking dame, and Allie was damn good-looking!

I began caressing ‘my’ breasts, soon producing the same pleasant thrills Sam had produced in the car. I gently pinched the rose-colored nipples, now hard little pebbles, and moaned softly at the unexpected tingles that shot through my body, finally centering between my legs, an area that was quickly becoming quite damp.

What the hell was I doing?! What kind of pervert was I? I was manhandling this sweet unsuspecting young girl’s body, watching all my movements reflected back at me, reaping the twin benefits of the actual sensations AND having the vantage point of voyeur. Shit!! Who was I kidding? It felt great! And it’s not like Allie was really there...she was 20 something years in the future. I wasn’t going to hurt her, and I’m sure she wouldn’t mind if I performed a few ‘experiments’—all in the name of science, of course. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity for me to experience how a woman truly feels sexually, how she gives herself pleasure.

Now tell me, how could I pass that up?

Before I chickened out, or my conscience took over, I slid my hand downward, letting my fingers delicately brush through the downy-soft pubic hair. I gingerly parted the wet lips, my finger coming to rest on my...

“Hiya’ Al! Howzit going?!”

“YIKES!!!” I quickly whipped around, feeling guilty for what I had been doing, and came face to hologram with Sam. Caught red-handed, I know my cheeks were burning with embarrassment. Just how long had he been there, watching me? Suddenly I was more angry than mortified. “Stop DOING that Sam! Geez Louise, you’re gonna give me a heart attack one of these days!”

His eyes became big as saucers as he drank in my nude form. “And speaking of heart-attack—WHOA!! You could make a dead man cum!”

“Sammy! Jesus! That’s disgusting!”

“Take it up with Mick Jagger.”

“And stop staring at me!”

He continued to gawk, and I thought he’d start to salivate soon. “Well, put on some clothes then, for Pete’s sake. You little cock-teaser you!”

That was another thing I wasn’t sure I was ever going to get used to. Soon after we simo-leaped I discovered Sam acting very un-Sam-like, saying and doing things very, well, like me. We hypothesized that somehow our neurons had melded somehow, and now he was part of me and I was part of him. All I knew was that sometimes he could be downright exasperating, like now, for instance. I grabbed a nearby blanket and wrapped it around myself. “Not funny, Sam, not funny at all,” I muttered, crossly. “Come to think of it, NOTHING about this leap has been very funny, actually.”

He leered at me like a pro, “What happened? Leap inflagrante delicto?”

I was rapidly losing my patience. “I’ve had it with you, Sam. I mean, LOOK AT ME!!”

“Well, I was trying to but you covered yourself up there...” he pouted.

“Go pound sand, Beckett! Now, what the hell am I doing here?”

He smirked, “Sending my hormones into hyper-overdrive would be my guess.”

“No thanks,” I deadpanned, “I already did that ONCE tonight and I don’t wish to repeat it, thank you very much.”

That stopped him in mid-innuendo. “What do you mean by that, Al?”

“Forget it, kid. I know *I* want to. All I want to know is what I have to do to get the heck outta here before it’s *that* time of month. I don’t think I could deal with being on the rag.” It was then that I noticed he was studying my face more intently instead of my body. “What is it, Sam?”

He was quiet for a moment. “I’m not sure...I know you, don’t I?”

“Geez, we’ve been friends forever, kid. I should HOPE you know me.”

“No...I mean, this girl. It’s been a long time but—damn, her name has slipped my mind.” He looked into my eyes, his own clouded with questions and uncertainty.

“You’re the genius holding the handlink. Why don’t you ask Ziggy what’s going on?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah.” He finally pulled his gaze away from me and started punching up the information. “Okay. It’s May 14, 1973. Your name is Alyson Davis, Allie to everyone...” He paused and looked back at me, his face aghast. “Oh, God, I remember her now.”

“Sammy, what does Ziggy say?” I didn’t like that look on his face. He was starting to worry me.

“She was my first...you know...” he stammered.

“First what? Are you telling me you were hymenally challenged, Sam?” He blanched at my crude comment—too bad. He had it coming.

“I, ah, I gotta go, Al.” He keyed in the exit sequence and was halfway out the door before I grasped what was happening.

“Sammy, wait! What am I doing...” The door was closed and he was gone. “...here? Great. Just great. Thanks a lot.”

“You’re welcome.”

For the third time in less than an hour I nearly keeled over from a coronary. I spun around in time to see the stunning blonde creature that sauntered into the room. “Talking to yourself again, Allie? You need to get laid.” Her voice was an irritating, almost indecipherable, fake Texas twang. Noting the open closet door she whined, “You haven’t been trying on my things again, have you? You KNOW you’re too hip-y. You keep stretching out my clothes.”

She breezed past me on the way to the dresser, presumably to make sure her stuff hadn’t been defiled by my presence. Long honey-colored hair, deep blue eyes and, I discovered as she stripped off her clothes, an all-over tan. The kind of bimbo that could give a guy a serious boner until she opens her mouth.

I wryly thanked God, or Whoever, for creating narcissistic females as I managed to catch the name embroidered on her underwear before she shucked them off. “What makes you think I didn’t get laid, Josie? I just got back from a date, out on Lovers’ Lane, you know.”

“Oh please, Allie. You’re the last virgin in this dorm, and besides, I wouldn’t exactly call that guy a date.”

“What’s wrong with him?” My dislike for this broad was growing by leaps and bounds.

“Ugh!! Don’t get me started. I can’t believe you went out with that nerd! And to Lovers’ Lane, no less!” She sat on one of the beds and started to pick her toes...VERY attractive.

“Nerd?” I’ve always been a pretty good judge of character, and my leaping had only enhanced my ability to trust my first impression. And my first impression told me this girl was trouble with a capital T.

“Yeah, that Steve Bucket.”

Completely disgusted by this point, I shot back, “It’s Beckett. Sam Beckett, like the playwright.”

“Beckett, Bucket, same thing. Allie, the guy is WEIRD!”

No doubt about it...this girl was a major league bitch. I tried to remember if catfights were in vogue in 1973.

“Actually, he’s a very nice guy. A little shy, but nice.” I don’t even know why I was wasting my breath. She had obviously made up her opinion about Sam and nothing I said was ever going to change that, but I still had to defend my friend in his absence. “And put some clothes on for flip’s sake!”

“God, Allie, you are such a prude!” Now THERE'S something I had never been accused of...maybe there really was something to that simo-leap theory. Josie complied with my request by putting on a see-through micro-bathrobe that barely covered her assets—I wondered why she even bothered—and headed for the door. “I’ll be in the shower if anyone needs me. You know, just once I wish Roger would aim at something other than me when he shoots off. Yickky!”

_Probably does it on purpose. I know *I* would!_

I flopped down on Allie’s bed (no way I’d go near Josie’s—who knew what you could catch from it?) and buried my face in the pillow. I couldn’t help but wonder just what else was in store for me, and since my observer wasn’t available to bitch to, I went one step higher.

“Hey God, it’s me. I just thought you’d like to know...this leap sucks so far. And for one so revered and well thought of, You’ve got a freaking warped mind.” I closed my eyes and sighed dejectedly. This was going to be the leap from hell—I just knew it. “Christ, where the hell are you, Sam?” I muttered, distractedly.

“Right here, Al.”

I didn’t even bother to overreact...I had done enough of that for one night. I opened my eyes and regarded my dearest friend; he still looked shaky but was desperately trying to pull himself together. I got that hinky feeling in the pit of my stomach. Something was really bothering him about this leap, and I wished he would tell me what it was. “Did you fix your problems with Ziggy?” I asked.

“Huh? Problems?” He gave me a questioning look, little realizing I was handing him an easy lead-in to explaining his earlier abrupt departure. It took him a couple of seconds but he soon picked up on it. “Oh, yeah—lots of problems. Gotta kick start her sometimes, ya’ know,” he bluffed, badly. He looked away from me once more and ran a hand across his forehead, brushing back that one streak of white hair I found so intriguing.

I sat up on the bed, the better to have a conversation with my observer. Whatever was bothering him, he obviously wasn’t ready to divulge it yet. No sweat—I could play along for a while longer. “Yeah, well, I know a girl that needs a good swift kick, too.”

That got his attention. He looked back up at me, startled. You could say a lot about Albert Calavicci and women, but one thing was always true: I held the utmost respect for them at all times. For me to even jokingly suggest striking one told Sam how peeved I was.

“Who might that be?” he queried, tentatively. “And is she in danger of this kick coming from you?”

“Maybe. It’s Allie’s bitch of a roommate, Josie…Something. Didn’t catch her last name.” A thought came to me suddenly and I know my eyes lit up excitedly. “Hey, maybe that’s why I’m here...to kick the living snot out of her. Maybe I’m here to start up the mud-wrestling fad. Oh, please Sammy, tell me that’s why I’m here!!”

He started to laugh, the first time I had seen him loosen-up since he got here. He began to rapidly punch buttons on the handlink, much faster than I ever could. “No, Al, I don’t think that’s why you’re here, as fascinating as the idea is. Umm, the girl you’re describing is one Josephine Hooker...”

“Well, there’s a prophetic name if I ever heard one.” I replied, snidely.

“...a.k.a Sweet Honeypie Monroe,” he finished.

I felt my brow furrow. I KNEW that name. “Why does that sound so familiar?”

He smiled at me. “It should, you sleaze. She was one of the most famous strippers in Vegas during the early 80’s. Snagged herself a rich sugar daddy.”

“Of course! Honeypie. Didn’t recognize her without her breast implants.”

He shook his head, ruefully. “I’m not even gonna ask how you could possibly remember that.”

“Sammy, if you had seen her act, well, let’s just say it’s not something even Swiss-cheesing would make you forget. Too bad her personality doesn’t match her body...she had the ripest ass on the Strip.”

“Are you done with your perverted ruminations, Al? ‘Cause you have nothing to worry about. Trust me, you’re not here to help Josie.”

I let out a huge sigh. “Good thing, ‘cause the only thing I’d do for her is shave her eyebrows off while she slept.” That got a loud guffaw out of him. Good sign. Maybe we could get on to real purpose of this leap. “So, you’re back from the Twilight Zone now, kid?” I pulled the blanket I was still wearing tighter to me and crossed my legs at the ankle; it soon became obvious Sam couldn’t take his eyes off my shapely bare calves. I decided to have some fun with my friend. “Oh, Saaammmy...” I called out seductively, Allie’s voice sounding sweet and inviting even to my ears. “Are you ready to tell me who I AM here to help?”

He grudgingly pulled his gaze away from my sexy calves, and began to blush. _Yes Sam, I caught you ogling me, ah Allie, again_. “Huh, oh ah, yeah, sorry Al…you’re here for Allie.”

“Allie?” I sat there puzzling that one over. I was pretty sure I had been sent here for Sam’s younger self, though I had no idea why. Maybe I was developing female intuition?

“Yeah, um…in a few days, Monday May 18th to be exact, she flies—flies?” He slapped the side of the handlink while I tried to hide the amused look I knew was crossing my face. It still cracked me up every time he had trouble with his brainchild. “Fails! She FAILS a final exam and...she flunked out of school.”

“What?! Murders, rapes, robberies, wars—and I was sent here to keep a freshman in college?” I scoffed. “What kind of odds is Ziggy giving this one, ‘cause that sounds really lame, Sam.”

“Ahh, 94.8% that you are here to make sure Alyson Davis passes her exam.”

“94...? That’s pretty certain. Are you sure we can trust that rusty bunch of tin cans?”

He smirked, “You’re lucky she can’t hear you say things like that...yet.”

“Don’t even think about it, Beckett.” That was one good thing about leaping: I didn’t have to interface personally with that damn computer anymore. She was more irritating than all my ex-wives put together.

“Look, Al, it was more than just an exam. Allie’s whole life rested on that grade. She was here on a full scholarship: room, board, classes, meal plan…the works. You know how rare those are, especially to a top school like Syracuse. The main stipulation was that she had to maintain a 3.3 GPA. She was a real hard worker, not one of those party animals.” Sam started pacing around the room, his words coming out faster and louder. “She studied all the time, and still kept a full-time job at the library to earn money for books and other expenses. By failing that exam her average fell to 3.12. She lost her funding and was forced to leave school.”

“Then what? She couldn’t get another scholarship, or go to a less expensive school? Didn’t they have student loans in the 70’s?”

Sam stopped pacing and looked hard at me. “Christ Al, you sound like Scrooge in ‘A Christmas Carol’: Are there no prisons? Are there no workhouses?”

“Sam, that’s hardly what I was saying...”

“It might as well be. Yes, all those things were options, but not for Allie.” He let out a deep breath of exasperation, because I couldn’t seem to grasp what he was trying to tell me. So excuse me—I wasn’t always the brightest bulb in the chandelier. When he finally got his emotions under control, he began again, his voice turning softer and more reflective. “She was a very sensitive girl, Al, and she was going through a very bad time. Her family wasn’t wealthy; they couldn’t afford to send her to college. She had to do it all on her own. Failing that exam and losing her scholarship, coupled with the other things in her life hurt her badly. For whatever reason, she never signed up for any other classes anywhere and her life seemed to just go downhill.” He punched up the stats and started reading Allie’s post-collegiate life. “Let’s see...married and divorced twice, no children. Employment record shows a long procession of minimum wage jobs—waitressing, factory work, retail...”

He stopped his narrative and slapped the link against his thigh, the resulting squawk shrill and expected. I would’ve laughed out loud but this time it wasn’t funny. I could tell by the look on Sam’s face this was very serious. “What is it, Sammy?” I asked, concerned.

“Oh God.” His voice was so faint I almost couldn’t hear him. “She got killed in a robbery attempt in 1988 while working the midnight shift in a donut shop.” We were both stunned by the news. When Sam finally got his voice back, it was angry and desperate. “Jesus Al! Don’t you see?! She didn’t BELONG there. She was pre-med and would’ve made one helluva doctor. She loved kids and wanted so badly to be a pediatrician. You gotta help her, Al.”

I was just as troubled by all this as my partner was. “Killed? She would’ve only been...?”

“32. She would’ve only been 32 years old. Aw Al, please...give her another chance.”

“And you too, right?”

“Huh?”

For a genius, sometimes he could be thick as a brick. “Sammy, I’m not having a heap o’ fun over here, but this leap has had your boxers in a bind since the beginning. You know WAY too much about this girl’s history to have gotten it all from Ziggy. Now spill it. What the hell does this girl mean to you?”

But before he could answer, Honeypie came strolling into the room, butt naked save for the towel around her head; I heard Sam’s jaw hit the floor. “Shower’s free, Allie. I suggest you get in there before Hairy Hilda clogs up the drain again.”

“Holy Shit, Al!” he exclaimed. “What the frick did she look like when you saw her in Vegas?”

“With 44 DD’s, even better,” I murmured.

“What’s better?” she demanded. Sometimes I still forget no one can see Sam except me.

“I’ll um, I’ll take my shower in the morning—that would be even better.” I stammered.

“Good save, Albert.”

“Thanks, kid.”

“What?!” she practically screamed.

“So...this is the barracuda, eh?” I didn’t like the look in Sam’s eye. That playful ‘I’m-gonna-get-Al-in-a-bunch-of-trouble’ look. He started winding his way around the statuesque blonde, making some very rude gestures that would’ve gotten him maced if he wasn’t a hologram.

“What the hell are you laughing at?” my confused roomie yelled, as Sam made some violent pelvic thrusts into her backside, with accompanying sound effects and appropriate facial grimaces.

“YES, YES, OH YEAH, DO IT FOR ME BABY! UGGGH, UMMM, YES, OH GOD YES!!!”

“Stop it!” I blurted out before collapsing in hysterics on my bed.

“I changed my mind. Maybe you and Bucket belong together. You’re both freaky!” she commented, disgustedly.

With one last loud satisfied grunt, Sam ‘kissed’ his unwitting pleasure doll. “Was it good for you too, baby?” he asked, lustfully. When he flashed his lecherous smile at me, I lost it completely. I could barely concentrate on his next enigmatic words, “Hey, gotta get it when you can, right?” He hit a code into the handlink and a white light doorway opened behind him. “I’ll check in on you in the morning.” He started to exit but turned back to me, a very sexy smile playing on his lips, “Pleasant dreams, Beautiful,” and he stepped through the I.C. Door.

I watched it slide close, a pain in my chest as I wished I could’ve followed him out of this hellhole. Instead, I now found myself alone with...the bitch from hell.

“Can I PLEASE have my blanket back? What are ya’ tryin’ to do, start a fashion craze? Lord knows you could use some help in that department. You ain’t exactly Twiggy or Jackie O.”

—Keep it up, Blondie...just pray I don’t find any NAIR!—

~xxxXxxx~

**SAM:**

Now, THAT was fun, to finally get back at the infamous Josie for all the hell she put Allie and me through so long ago. Kinda glad I picked up some of Al’s perverted neurons during that simo-leap—I NEVER would have had the nerve to do that before. Though I had no proof, I’m sure it was one of her boyfriends who pantsed me in the gym locker room all those years ago. Honeypie. What a name. I had completely forgotten about her...guess I wasn’t missing much. I only met her a couple of times when I’d pick up Allie at her dorm. Josie was pretty in that cheap, sleazy off-the-rack kind of way, and that horrible Texas accent! She did absolutely nothing for me. Besides, she thought she was still living in the 60’s, giving out samples of ‘free-love’ to any guy who crossed her path...including yours truly.

I don’t understand how poor Allie was able to live with that woman every day for a whole year but, being so nice and sweet, she suffered in silence—except when she was with me. She knew she could tell me anything, just let off some steam and we’d always manage to get in a few laughs, too. (Usually at Josie’s expense.)

Allie Davis. After all these years. I can’t believe this is happening, that I’ll have to live through all this again. I nearly passed out when I read off Ziggy’s fact list: shot dead at 32. My sweet Allie. I thoroughly triple-checked her results against all the news clippings and obituaries, but unfortunately, Ziggy was correct this time.

It was a bit disconcerting to hear Al’s colorful words coming from Allie’s beautiful bow mouth, his perverted thoughts spoken in her soft, lilting voice. It’s been a long time with too many memories—both good and bad—but I was still floored by her freshness and natural loveliness. And her eyes! Oh, those eyes. So kind, so gentle, so intelligent. I dreamt of her often back then, my favorite late night fantasy, until the night everything was ruined out on Lover's Lane.

The last time I saw Allie after that dreadful night was in the cafeteria a couple of days later, but she saw me first and had bolted before I could talk to her. We never resolved our problems, and I never found out why she did what she did. We went our separate ways and until today I never knew what had happened to her.

Now I know...and I had to prevent it.

I couldn’t believe she was dead, but no, wait—she wasn’t. She was in the Waiting Room at this very moment, more masculine and decidedly hairier while she inhabited Al’s body, but definitely alive. And it was up to me and Al to keep her that way.

Al. Shit, I really screwed THAT one up. I should’ve never left him like that, running away like a thief in the night. But I had no choice. If I had stayed any longer I would’ve left myself open, let Al see how bad this leap was affecting me. This one was going to be tough, no question about it.

The more I stopped and thought, the more those events of 25 years ago came flooding back to me, like some nightmare that filters into the daytime. Man, it’s no wonder I originally blanked out on her name. But when I finally dragged my eyes from that heavenly body, a body I had never gotten to see in the nude, and glimpsed that angelic face, time—and my heart—just stopped.

Please God, why are you making me go through this again? Al doesn’t know about Allie. I never told anyone about her...it was one of the most humiliating episodes of my life. Deep down, I knew that I couldn’t keep it a secret from him anymore. Telling him might be the only way to complete the leap. But I couldn’t do it just yet.

It took a while, but as soon as I had composed myself, I took a quick peek into the Waiting Room. Beeks must’ve sensed my presence—there was no way she could’ve seen me through that tiny eye-slot in the door—and rushed out to intercept me. She convinced me that it would probably be ‘inadvisable’ to interact with our ‘visitor’ at this time, since we shared a past history.

Stunned, I asked how she could know that, considering I had yet to tell her about Allie, but apparently the leapee had already tipped off our resident ‘shrink’ by repeatedly asking for “my Sam” since her arrival. I understood Bena’s concern, and agreed with her, but it was disappointing nonetheless. Regardless of what occurred between us, it would’ve been nice to talk to Allie once again, even if it was in Al’s gravelly voice. She was always a great conversationalist, very bright and quite funny. Add to that a friendly demeanor and a sweet disposition and it was easy to see she would’ve made a wonderful pediatrician.

When I asked how Allie was holding up, Beeks replied she was adapting well under the circumstances. She was even asking for her textbooks, terrified she was losing valuable study time. I assured her I’d make it a point to get the correct editions from Al in the morning; she thanked me and reminded me she’d want to do extra sessions with me during this leap before she headed back into the room.

Great. I could hardly wait. Not that I had anything against Bena—I knew she was only doing her job (and she does it well) but I just had so many other things to worry about. The last thing I wanted to do was set aside more time I didn’t have for ‘extra sessions’.

I got one quick peek—all I saw was Al, sitting on the examination table, his legs crossed in a dainty lady-like pose. From that distance I could almost pretend it was one of Al’s weird jokes, but if I had the chance to get a close look I’d be able to tell it wasn’t him. It never was. The eyes always gave the illusion away. Those sad, wise eyes, the ones that twinkled with such intelligence and impish mischief, would always be different. Sometimes it was too painful to bear.

How did he do it for so long? He’d only been gone a fraction of the time I had been, but I didn’t know how I could go on. Every program I ran past Ziggy didn’t work; I gave up counting how many of them I have tried. With each failure I was getting more and more discouraged. I never bothered to tell Al, but I think he knew. He was always so sure that I was the only one who could fix the retrieval program, but I couldn’t. I sometimes had the feeling I was being punished for mucking around with forces beyond my understanding. But it wasn’t fair that Al should suffer as well.

Yet in a way, I guess, he’s got it easier now. I never considered it that way when I was leaping, as it was always my neck on the line time and again, but that was the point. At least I was THERE! I had control over my little corner of the world. As an observer, all one can do is watch, pray, and give moral support. And while I know that sometimes Al’s presence had done more for me than an entire army squadron, I still wished I could be there to physically assist him. I was sick and tired of being an invisible cheering section.

Then, too, he was now spared the knowledge of everything he had left behind—in his case mostly sad, bitter, unhappy memories. Maybe it was better this way...

But it would be even better when I got him home.

I went back to ‘our’ office—I didn’t care how long he was gone, it would always be ‘our’ office—only to find a stack of messages from Donna to set a court date. Jesus Christ! Could this day get any worse? As if I didn’t I have enough to deal with already without this, too?

I never knew dissolving a marriage could be such a headache—why the hell did Al keep doing it to himself? Five times, shit, I couldn’t handle one. I just wanted her gone, even though she was positively raking me over the coals. (I had the feeling she hooked up with one of Al’s ex-wife’s lawyer.) Get a load of this list of charges: abandonment, mental and physical cruelty (she’s trying to set a precedent—I didn’t know sexual frustration was legitimate grounds for divorce), and the capper.... adultery, even though I had no idea I was married when I slept with Maggie Dawson, for cripes’ sake!

My head spun when I was presented with the papers, but I didn’t even bother to contest anything. The quicker she was out of my life, the better as far as I was concerned. In my opinion, that marriage was over the moment she uttered those cold-hearted words: “I don’t care.”

It wasn’t just because it was Al who was in terrible danger—and that I’d risk my life a thousand times to save him—but that she could be that selfish, that self-centered when a human life was at stake. If I had known she could ever be that kind of clingy, whiny woman I never would’ve said, “I do.” If I made one big mistake during my leaping years, it was whatever I did that ensured she’d become my bride.

The fact that it WAS Al, my best friend, someone whose very existence meant the world to me...let’s just say ‘murderous rage’ doesn’t BEGIN to describe how I felt towards that hate-filled bitch. I guess she found out where she stood in my life when I turned my back on her and ran after Al.

Do you know I wasn’t all that surprised to find out after I regained consciousness that she was gone? Apparently, there was a huge electrical power surge—which no one has ever been able to explain—that knocked me out cold. However, it was strong enough that it also flashed through Al and jolted him awake. He completed the mission without me and leaped out.

Me? I ended up alone in the Project’s Intensive Care Unit while my ‘loving’ wife plotted to extract her revenge. She didn’t even wait to find out if I was alive or dead—I was a meal ticket to her either way. (Yeah, I know, that thin line between love and hate.) She didn’t care one way or the other: dead, I was worth a fortune in insurance money, since she was the main beneficiary (and don’t think THAT didn’t change as soon as I was functioning again) and alive, well, she could soak me in alimony payments...which was exactly what she was doing.

I called my lawyer and told him I didn’t care what date he picked or what she asked for—hell, give her anything she wants and I’ll sign the papers later!—“JUST GET RID OF HER!!!” and slammed down the phone. I laid my head on the desk and thought of Al, thought of ways to get him home to me once more, thought of how desirable Allie was. I thought until I couldn’t think anymore, and then fell asleep at my desk...in ‘our’ office.

~xxxXxxx~

**AL:**

Well, there was no denying it now...we had definitely swapped more than just a couple of neurons on that strange simo-leap. Sam was acting like an absolute degenerate, and I loved it!

The kid’s always had a bizarre sense of humor—many people didn’t get it at all, and he finally gave up trying. Personally, I think he’s a scream.

But this?! That little X-rated show was so out of character for him...much more like something I’d do. It did the trick, though—I was still laughing like a hyena long after he was gone. Of course, now Honeypie thinks I’m completely off the wall.

If she only knew the truth.

I still don’t have a clue what’s bothering Sam. His last moments of hilarity notwithstanding, he’s been very distracted. While getting ready for bed, I caught another look at Allie in the full-length mirror, and I could see why Sam’s attention kept drifting. I got the feeling she was more than a cheap feel in the backseat of a car, but I just couldn’t get anything out of the kid. Maybe I’ll be able to think clearer after a good night’s sleep...it’s been a rough evening.

I was just glad no one in the Navy could see me in this pink baby-doll!

After a couple of hours trying to find a comfortable sleeping position (virtually impossible with those THINGS in the way), I gave up and decided to play Sherlock Holmes for a while.

I tiptoed past the bed containing the snoring Honeypie, and sat down at the more cluttered of the two small desks. Good choice. On it I found two framed photos: one of Allie holding a small Golden Retriever puppy; the other one was of Allie at a going away party—at least according to the “Good-Bye Joey And God Bless” banner that appeared in the background. She was flanked in the picture by an older version of herself (strong genes run on her mom’s side of the family) and a handsome young man in an Army dress uniform; he resembled his mom and his little sister. Something about that photo didn’t sit well with me—I got the bad feeling that she and Sam shared a mutual tragedy as well as a mutual attraction. A lack of other photos, or even a yearbook, told me that the puppy might be this girl’s only friend.

With nothing else except a ton of textbooks littering the top of her desk, I started riffling through the drawers. The first contained standard college fare: pens, pencils, erasers, a dictionary, a thesaurus, etc. The next, stuff found in any young girl’s room: make-up, hair ribbons, barrettes, costume jewelry, perfume, and a couple of trashy Harlequin romance novels.

In the last drawer, however, I hit pay dirt.

Among the numerous scholastic achievement awards I found a letter of notification on making the Dean’s list the previous semester…smart girl. (It was difficult knowing that without my help she wasn’t going to repeat the feat this semester.) I also discovered a bundle of letters wrapped in a fancy red velvet ribbon, arranged carefully in chronological order, all listing ‘Pvt. Joseph M. Davis, Vietnam’ as a return address. I counted dozens of them, all postmarked roughly a week apart...until they abruptly stopped on January 16th, 1973 confirming my worst suspicions.

Finally, at the bottom of the drawer I uncovered what I’d been secretly hoping to find: a diary. The Magna Carta. The Rosetta Stone. The Holy Grail of all discoveries. Normally I feel a little guilty about prying into someone else’s private thoughts, but there were too many missing pieces to this puzzle and I needed all the help I could get. As I lifted the book from its hiding place, a picture of Sammy fell into my lap...it looked like a yearbook picture. So maybe I was wrong—she had at least one other friend besides the puppy.

I went back to my bed, TRIED to get comfy, and began to read.

The diary proved rather enlightening reading for Al. Alyson’s brother had in fact gotten killed in January in a failed MIA rescue attempt. The eerie parallel with Sam’s plight was not lost on Al; he just hoped he wasn’t one of the captives they were trying to save. Her grades had started to suffer as a consequence, but she was still carrying a strong B+, except for one class, a general ed. course she didn’t even need for her major...Astronomy. Al smiled to himself at the irony of it all. If there was one person who could get her an A on that exam, well, he was that person.

For some odd reason he was delighted that she couldn’t stand Josie either, and was anxiously awaiting the summer break away from her. Smart, AND a good judge of character.

The first mention of Sam appeared back in October, her second week working at the library. There was no name, just a description; she thought he was ‘cute’. From the few moments Al had spent with him, he could see how she’d come to that conclusion. But if he had to choose, he’d have to say the older Sam was much better looking. All he had to do was remember the times he’d almost lost an amorous conquest to his genius friend…well, if he could remember anything at all, that is.

It appeared the friendship blossomed when Allie found Sam nose-deep in a reference book one night after the library had closed. They had started talking; he helped her put some books away then had walked her back to her dorm. She wrote that she was impressed with his good manners, obvious intelligence and quirky sense of humor. And to Al’s amusement, she had also praised Sam’s “nice buns”. _So, the girl is normal after all_ Al thought… _and she had good taste to boot._

As a matter of fact, the more he read, the more normal, more human, she became. She really cared about Sam, that much was clear. With each entry, her prose got more flattering, the secrets more personal, the feelings more sexual in nature; they had only begun dating a couple of weeks earlier.

Her last entry, written the night before Al had leaped into her life, talked about the upcoming evening, and her ‘impromptu’ suggestion to go to Lovers’ Lane. _The little sneak!_ thought Al.  
 _SHE was the one who had planned the whole night._

She was also looking forward to the study session; it sounded as if she believed Sam was her only hope to pass that dreaded Astronomy final.

And 25 years later, it appeared he was about to come through for her.

As he began to drift off into an exhausted sleep, Al could understand Sam’s feelings for this special girl, and was beginning to get insights into his best friend he never imagined. Before sleep claimed him completely, one last thought crossed his mind:

_I’ve got to get these two kids together._

~xxxXxxx~

**Friday**   
**May 15, 1973**   
**AL:**

The next morning began as badly as the night before had ended. I was still in a leap, still in a female’s body, only now I had the added bonus of a tone-deaf Texas prairie dog singing (or, more accurately, warbling) ‘Paper Roses’. It was enough to make me question the existence of God.

After the second verse, I couldn’t stand it one second longer, and blindly threw my pillow at the offending noise; I had to smile at the rewarding ‘THUD’ followed by the surprised shriek. “What the hell did you do THAT for?”

Man, she was dumber than a box of rocks. “Just lettin’ you know you shouldn’t quit yer day job.”

“And just what is that supposed to mean?” she demanded.

I rolled over and squinted at her—as if I needed another reason to hate her, she was one of those goddamn morning-freaks. I always felt people who get up with the larks all bright and cheery at 6:00 A.M. should have their heads examined. “It means you ain’t no Marie Osmond. Ya’ sound like a toad that has a frog in its throat.” Hey, not too bad for me at this time of day.

Her mouth hung open for a second (thankfully no sounds came out of it) and she looked as if she was about to cry. “That was a very cruel thing to say, Allie.”

“Yeah, well, sue me.” I rolled back over and snuggled back into my blankets before muttering, “Ya’ might as well...everyone else has.”

She walked past my bed and dropped my pillow on my head. “You wouldn’t be so cranky if you got fucked once in a while.” And with that witty bon mot, she left.

I laughed to myself, “Chickie, I’ve been fucked more times than I can count this past year.” I grabbed my pillow and easily went back to sleep.

I don’t know how late it was when I finally got up for the day, but I felt great! It’s not often I got to sleep as long as I wanted to and man, did my brain need it. I felt deliciously refreshed and decided to cap it off with a long, hot shower. I put on my robe, grabbed my towel and shampoo and junk, and headed down the hall to the communal bathroom.

It was deserted at that time of the morning, which was a good thing…I would’ve sounded pretty foolish trying to explain why I was looking for urinals in the girls room! The more I thought about it, the more I just wanted to crawl back into bed, pull the covers over my head and wait this leap out. But, nature was calling, and once the confusion was solved, I got to discover a new and exciting way to urinate. (Hint to all you future leapers out there...women cannot pee standing up!)

After all that, my shower went off without a hitch. In fact, without incident at all—I must say I was very disappointed in Sam. I NEVER passed up a chance to ‘peep’ him when HE was showering as a female. Oh, well, his loss.

I was back in my dorm room and dressing—choosing bell-bottom jeans (the low-slung hip huggers showing off my hostess’s trim young waist) and a frilly cut-off white peasant-style halter-top—when I remembered I’d left my towel in the shower. I threw on a pair of well-worn moccasins and returned to the bathroom.

I couldn’t have been gone more than a minute or two, but as I was walking back to my place I heard familiar voices, even before I turned the corner of the corridor. It was Sam and Josie having some sort of discussion, so, like any good eavesdropper, I bided my time and listened. It was quite a lesson.

“I don’t understand what you see in Allie,” Josie was saying, standing a little too close to Sam to be just friendly. “You could have lots of other women, more desirable women.” She took a step toward Sam, but he backed away.

“I happen to find Allie very desirable, thank you very much,” he stammered, clearly intimidated by Josie’s presence, but not so much that he was about to cave in. So, he found me, ahhh, Allie desirable, huh? I’ll just store that little nugget of information for a later time.

“Still, she’ll never give you what you want.” She reached out to touch his chest, and added, “What you need.”

He shirked away from her, as if her touch burned. “And what would that be?” _Awww, c’mon, Sammy, you can’t be THAT naïve!_

She laughed an empty, hollow laugh, probably meant to sound seductive and carefree, but came out more vindictive and predatory. “You’re cute, Sam. Playing so innocent, like a shy farm boy or something.” She again reached out to him, running her fingers down his chest. I nearly jumped her and clawed her eyes out!

_Wait, what the hell is going on with you, Bingo? Do you just want to save Sam from that man-eater, or is it something else?_

He backed up another step and found himself trapped against the door to my dorm room. This time his eyes were blazing, no longer held in check by Josie’s spell. “I AM a farm boy and damn proud of it! Now, for the last time, where is Allie?” _Good boy, kid. I knew you wouldn’t fall for her bullshit._

“How the hell should *I* know? I’m not her keeper.” She closed the space between them and ran a caressing hand down his chest, over his right hip and along his leg; by the startled look on Sam’s face I had a feeling she had found his little Sammy. I was so mad I coulda spit nails!!

Not mad. Jealous. Pure, seething jealousy. Sam was mine! I mean, he was Allie’s! Josie had no right to be pawing him like that. Besides, I thought she didn’t even like him. What the hell was going on here? Whatever it was, I didn’t like it, but I was getting more information, wasn’t I? I decided to wait a couple more minutes.

“We could have so much fun, Sammy,” she cooed, pressing herself against him, head to toe. “You don’t know what you’re missing.”

Even as a snide retort crossed my mind, a better one came from Sam’s lips. “Yes I do—repeated treatments at the free clinic.”

I let out a sigh of relief; I didn’t even know I was holding my breath. I mean, what was I thinking? That Sam could actually go for Honeypie?

His put-off remark completely unglued the ice-princess. She slapped Sam viciously across the face as she snarled, “Just who the fuck do you think you are?”

That was my cue. I came out of hiding and strode purposely towards the odd couple. “My boyfriend, that’s who. Wanna do something about it, Josie?” If it came down to a fight, I wasn’t afraid of her. She may have had a few inches and a couple of pounds on me, but I could take her. No problem.

She was startled by my sudden appearance, but only momentarily, sliding back easily into the role of ‘chaste’ Southern belle. “Allie, your BOYFRIEND here—well, he was making rude advances towards me.”

Sam was apocalyptic! “No, Allie! Don’t listen to her! Honest, I didn’t...I swear it!!”

I held up my hand to stop his needless confession, and directed my abuse where it belonged. “Josie, if you and Sam were the only two people left on earth, the only advances he’d make towards you is to push you off a cliff. In fact, I’ll go one step further and say he’d marry a mountain goat before he’d shtupp you.”

I couldn’t tell which of them was more scandalized by my outburst. Sam looked so shocked and confused and, well, so damn cute! Josie just gaped like a fish out of water before sputtering, “Well! I’ve never been so insulted in all my life!”

Sharon! That’s it! She reminded me of Sharon, my third, no wait, my fourth wife. No wonder she was such an easy mark. “Don’t worry, Honeychile,” throwing her hillbilly, redneck accent back in her face. “You’re still young yet. I’m sure you’ll hear worse...and quite often.”

She glowered at me and I could understand why Allie had never stood up to her before. Without all my life’s experiences, I would have found her menacing, too. But I’ve dealt with bigger ball-busters than Josie ‘Honeypie’ Hooker. It was painfully obvious she was used to walking all over her mousy roommate and never expected to have to take her on; she was woefully unprepared for battle. “Allie, you take that back or I swear I’ll never speak to you again.”

Was she kidding me? THAT was her big threat? I dished it right back to her, “Pinch me, I must be dreaming.”

She got that look again, like this morning, the fake crocodile tears forming in her eyes. “You don’t mean that.”

Jesus, how obvious did I have to be? I take it back. Forget about the rocks…she was dumber than a bag of hammers. “Josie, don’t you have someplace else you’re supposed to be, like acting in one of those health films, ‘Gonorrhea and You’ or posing as a poster-child for Syphilis Prevention Week? Anyplace but here. Three’s a crowd, you know.”

She squinted at me, trying to look threatening; I almost laughed in her face. “You’ll be sorry you said that.” Without another word, she turned on her heel, fluffed her hair and started to storm away.

Too bad—she missed me rolling my eyes, but I did get off one last parting shot: “Could you have been just a BIT more cliché if you had tried? AND KEEP YOUR HANDS OFF MY BOYFRIEND!!!”

I turned my attention back to Sam, who was cowering in the doorframe, trying to figure out who this strange person was in front of him. I felt I owed him an explanation or an apology or something. “I’m so sick of that tramp ruining my life. I couldn’t take it anymore. I just had to do something, SAY something to get her to back off. It’s been building for a long time and, well, I’m sorry you had to witness that. I guess it was pretty ugly, huh?”

He smiled, and half-laughed. “Are you kidding? I’m glad you finally found your voice after all these months and stood up to her.” He stepped over and pulled me into a tight hug. “I’m so proud of you, Allie, and thanks.”

“For what?”

“For defending my honor, Slugger.” We both laughed, and he gave me an extra squeeze.

“You’re welcome. I’m pretty proud of myself.” And I was. Maybe now Allie’s dorm life might be a little easier when she got back.

“But what she said about us, I mean, her and me...Allie, that’s not what happened...”

I silenced him by placing my index finger against his lips. “I know you wouldn’t.” But it did puzzle me why SHE would. Didn’t she know I was around and would catch them together? Why was she trying to seduce Sam, a man she considered ‘freaky’ and ‘weird’? Did it have something to do with this leap?

He smiled again at me (which absolutely slayed me) and playfully kissed my index finger. “Anyway, you only have a couple more days with her and then you’re free.”

“Yeah, if I let her live that long,” I grumbled.

“I don’t know what’s gotten into you today, Allie, but I love your spunk.” He gave me another quick hug. “And speaking of freedom, whatcha doing right now?”

“Well, I was gonna study a bit, why?”

He looked appalled. “Study? On a gorgeous spring day like this?”

Since when did Sam ‘Don’t bother me, I’m building a better mousetrap’ Beckett even notice there WAS weather? “Yeah, I’ve got that big Astronomy exam Monday.”

“I know...that’s what our study session is going to be for.”

“Well, I was going to get a head start.” I didn’t know what this Sam had in mind, but I thought it wise to be here in case MY Sam showed up with some information on the leap. I was starting to get worried; it had been over 12 hours since his last visit.

The Sam in front of me had that mischievous gleam in his eye I have come to both love and dread. “Forget about all that. Remember how I told you Aaron was going home for the weekend?”

“Aaron?”

“My roommate? Anyway, since he’s not leaving until after supper, I convinced him to let me borrow his car one last time so I could take my favorite girl—that’s you,” I felt myself actually blush, “into town for the afternoon. We just have to be back by 5:00 or he’ll kill me.”

I was stunned. “Wait a minute. YOU, Mister Samuel Beckett, work-a-holic extraordinaire, wants to goof off with finals coming up next week?”

“Sure, why not? I know you’re anxious about your big test, but you’ve still got tonight, and the whole weekend to cram.”

“And you? What about YOUR exams?”

“Well, I have only one left, on Tuesday, so after the physics help session I’m hosting tonight, the symposium tomorrow afternoon, and your personal study session tomorrow night, I’ll still have all day Sunday and Monday to study. That’s plenty of time.”

I couldn’t help but smile with pride. “You are truly amazing, Beckett.”

He ducked his head and began to blush; he looked so damn cute! And he didn’t even know the effect that look had on girls...and...me? What WAS that strange feeling in the pit of my stomach? Maybe a residual sentiment from the real Allie? I hoped so. Otherwise, it was too scary to think about. Better to just bury it back there and forget about it. “Aw, shucks, it’s no big deal really.”

Shucks?! My eyebrow shot up on that one. It’d been a long time since I heard someone use that word besides Gomer Pyle. “Oh, I think someday you’re going to be a VERY big deal, Sam.”

If possible, he blushed more and refused to meet my gaze...that weird feeling in my tummy grew as I started to get warm all over. I wasn’t sure I liked it, not at all. “Look, all I’m saying is it’s a beautiful day and you shouldn’t be trapped in this stuffy old room with just your books for company.” A purely ironic statement, considering its source. He finally brought his eyes up and looked into mine. I found myself captivated by their startling brightness and the little roguish smile he sent my way. The ache inside was almost painful now. “C’mon, Allie, what do ya’ say?”

What COULD I say? At that moment I would have followed him anywhere. Besides, it wasn’t everyday that Beckett VOLUNTEERED to play hooky and I wasn’t about to spoil it. Who knows? Maybe that’s why I was here, to make sure they went out on this ‘date’. “I say fire up that engine, I’ll grab my keys and meet ya’ in 30 seconds.”

“Great. I’m parked right outside.” He gave me an innocent, friendly peck on the cheek, and I felt the ache spread through my whole body. This wasn’t good. “Don’t keep me waiting.”

I entered my room, grabbed my keys and wallet (A purse? Not on your life.), locked the door and ran off to meet Mr. Adventure.

_**“And if I say to you tomorrow,** _   
_**Take my hand child, come with me,** _   
_**It’s a castle I will take you,** _   
_**Well, what’s to be, they say will be.”3** _

“Ahh, Allie, what’s that?”

“You kiddin’? That’s Zeppelin.”

“Since when do you like Led Zeppelin?” he asked, bemused.

“Hey, variety is the spice of Life, Sammy. Don’t you get sick of Seals & Croft and The Carpenters all the time?”

“You never complained about my music before,” he pouted.

“I’m not complaining,” I bit down my tongue, because I was. “Just, let’s try this channel for a while, okay?”

He flashed me a smile, clearly humoring me. “If that’s what you want...I just don’t know what’s gotten into you lately.”

I settled back in my seat, very content. Sissy rock was gone, monster-rock was in.

_**“And if you say to me tomorrow,** _   
_**Oh what fun it all would be,** _   
_**Then what’s to stop us, pretty baby?** _   
_**But what is and what should never be.”3** _

Conversation was kept to a minimum on our trip to the big bad city. Aside from our battle over control of the radio dial, we mostly talked about Sam’s upcoming physics study session. His favorite professor had gotten called out of town suddenly and he offered to take over the gathering. That we wouldn’t be seeing each other that night had been a given—apparently I was scheduled to work at the library, anyway.

He was really nervous, and who could blame him? Mixing teenage kids with a Friday Night study session was not a good combination, and they were bound to an unruly, uncooperative bunch. He was also worried about getting Aaron’s car back in time, as conscientious and anal-retentive as ever.

We had all the windows open in the ‘72 Chevy Impala, and the breeze was whipping through my hair. What a unique experience...very liberating. The twinge I had felt earlier had dissipated and I was again luxuriating in Sam’s comforting companionship. I looked over at him, the wind blowing his chestnut locks around his face, Led Zep cranked on the car stereo and said a silent ‘thank you’ to The Voice for giving me this moment.

_**“Catch the wind, see us spin, sail away,** _   
_**Leave today way up high in the sky,** _   
_**Then the wind won’t blow, you really shouldn’t go,** _   
_**It only goes to show…** _   
_**That you will be mine, by taking our time.”3** _

After parking in a municipal lot, we walked around window-shopping, and people watching. Sam soon had me in giggles with his imitations of the strange assortment of city folk we encountered: the ‘with-it’ college flunky; the militant anti-war activist; the way-too-serious-to-be-real public account; the haggard, harried mother of six; the stoned store clerks. Each voice, each movement was perfectly formed—a gifted mimic. It suddenly hit me how well these skills would serve him during his leaping years.

When Sam suggested some lunch, I readily agreed. I hadn’t eaten breakfast, and my tummy was starting to rumble. He hooked his arm in mine and propelled me into an old-fashioned corner drugstore, one that was complete with an ancient luncheon counter. I couldn’t remember the last time I saw one of those—the kind that serve nothing but great tasting, artery-hardening fried grease. It soon became apparent that this was *our* restaurant.

“Samuel! Allie!” A tiny, immaculate middle-aged woman, no taller than 5 feet (though she tried to hide it by wearing heels) greeted us as we took two seats at the counter, side-by-side.

She reminded me of a bird: small bright eyes hidden behind a pair of prescription glasses, a long sharp nose and a puffy salt/pepper bouffant hair-do. “Haven’t seen you two in a couple of weeks. I was starting to worry about you. How you kids doing today?”

“Pretty good, Margie,” Sam answered, calling her by name although I didn’t see a nametag. They must’ve been pretty well acquainted for her to get away with calling him Samuel...he HATED that. “We’ve just been rather busy with finals coming up.”

“Oh, that time of year again, huh?”

“Yeah, but I was able to convince Allie to bunk school for the afternoon.”

She chuckled, no, it was more of a hearty cackle—and the bird analogy was complete. “Samuel Beckett, you little scamp! You’re such a bad influence on this sweet girl.” Sam? A bad influence? And a scamp?! Was I missing something? “What can I get you two to eat?”

“The usual for me, Margie.”

“Got it, Sammy.” She took out her order pad and talked as she scribbled, “Double cheeseburger, large fry, and a chocolate milkshake...”

“Don’t forget the extra ketchup,” Sam interrupted.

“How could I?” She finished her notations then glanced over to me. “What about you, honey? Order anything on the menu, ‘cause he’s buying,” and she jerked a thumb at my ‘date’.

“Hey!” came the expected protest and the good–natured laughter. I really liked this lady.

“You know, what he’s having sounds great. Make it two.” I could tell immediately by the surprised look on both their faces that I had made a serious faux pas.

“Are you just pulling my leg, Allie? ‘Cause we have that fresh fruit plate you like...”

Great. Now I was one of those sprout-chompin’ vegans or something. I was probably way out of character but I didn’t care. I was starving and some sliced pears and cottage cheese was not gonna cut it. “No, that’s okay. I’ll have what he’s having—oh, and can I have extra chocolate stuff in the shake?”

Margie shook her head as she walked away, muttering under her breath, “I’ll just never understand kids these days.”

After she was gone Sam quietly asked, so none of the other diners could hear, “But...I thought you told me you were on a diet?”

Ya’ know, that’s always bothered me. A perfectly fine female who’s constantly on a diet because society makes her believe she’s overweight and needs to be slimmer. Or else they purposely don’t eat when they’re out with their boyfriends to impress them, then go home, eat everything in sight, and puke it up afterwards.

I mean, come on. There was nothing wrong with Allie’s proportions, and this observation was coming from an expert. Actually, she could’ve used a couple of extra pounds to really emphasize her womanly curves. Granted, this was the time of Twiggy and the waif craze that swept the country, but there were still plenty of men that wanted what Alyson had to offer. I wondered if Sam was one of them? “Well, I lost the weight I set out to, so it’s time to celebrate.”

“So let me get this straight,” he smirked. “You’re celebrating a successful diet with a milkshake?”

“With extra chocolate stuff,” I added, impishly.

“I don’t think I’ll ever understand you,” he laughed. “One minute you’re one person, the next someone completely different. Each day I find another side to you.” He stopped, and tilted his head slightly, “And each one makes me like you more.” He reached over and clasped the hand I had resting on the counter—then it was MY turn to blush! “You’re just so different, Allie.”

“Different?”

“Yeah, from the other girls.”

_Oh, Beckett...you will NEVER know!!_ “You mean, like Josie?”

He actually cringed. “No! No one’s like Josie, thank God.”

“Gee, I got the impression you were rather captivated by her,” I teased.

“More like HELD captive! She had me cornered like a mouse in a maze.”

“Oh, come on, Sam. You’re not just a little bit flattered that she made a play for you?”

“She makes a play for every guy, in case you didn’t notice.”

I couldn’t let up. “You mean, you wouldn’t have taken her up on the offer if I hadn’t shown up?”

He looked positively appalled. “Get outta here! I thought you knew me better than that. What could I possibly want with her?”

“Besides her looks and the fact that she’s built like a brick shithouse?”

The expression on his face was absolutely priceless. I kept forgetting I wasn’t Al around him...I was going to have to start watching my language. I doubted Allie used expressions like that. “Ahhh, well, yeah, I guess, but there’s a lot more to a person than their looks and body. She’s just not my type.”

“C’mon, Sammy, Josie is EVERY guy’s type,” I responded, incredulously.

“Well, not mine.” He said it with such conviction, but I couldn’t believe him. I mean, we’re talking Cindy Crawford, Christy Brinkley and Claudia Schiffer all rolled into one, though admittedly, not as classy.

“So, you’re gonna sit there and tell me she doesn’t roast your chestnuts?”

He gave me an odd look. “Allie, this conversation is out of the Twilight Zone.”

“Yeah, I know, but I’m curious...and you didn’t answer the question. Does Josie turn you on?”

He stared me right in the eye and said, “Okay. No. She doesn’t turn me on.”

I had to smile. “You lie like a rug, Beckett. You really don’t find her attractive?”

He scrutinized me closely. “Just what do you want to hear?”

“The truth,” I told him, simply.

He let out a huge sigh. “Alright, she’s attractive,” he finally conceded. “But that doesn’t mean she’s appealing, at least not to me. I might be old-fashioned, but I don’t think you should have sex with someone just because you find her attractive. It’s more about how you feel towards someone, how much you care about them, how special they are—how much you love them.” He blushed and smiled shyly, “Besides, I think you’re ten times prettier than Josie.”

From anyone else, I’d be pulling on the thigh high boots to wade through the bull. From Sam, he spoke from the heart. “Only ten times?” I batted my long eyelashes at him.

His killer smile widened. “You’re right again. Twenty times.”

At that point, conversation halted as our food arrived. I dug in with great gusto and let out a loud, appreciative moan of delight. I hadn’t had such a delectable, delicious, un-nutritious meal since I started leaping. Halfway through, Sam stopped chowing down long enough to get out, “Now, since we’re being so honest, what about Dirk?”

That threw me for a loop. “What?” The name sent a shiver down my back, but I had no idea why.

“You know, Dirk Edmonds?”

“Is that supposed to mean something to me?” I was completely lost in this conversation. All I knew was the name bothered me. Had I met him? Was it a residual from Allie? Or did I just not like the name Dirk for some reason?

Sam was looking at me like I had just arrived from another planet. “Ahhh—captain of the football team? Josie’s main squeeze?” he clarified, clearly not understanding WHY he had to clarify.

DIRK was Josie’s guy? “But I thought she was out last night with some guy named Roger?” I asked, innocently.

Good thing Sam wasn’t drinking his milkshake because he would’ve shot it out his nose. As it was, he went into a serious choking fit. When he regained his composure, he blurted out, “She’s going out with ROGER EDMONDS, too?”

“How the hell should *I* know?” I answered, snottily. I hated not knowing what was going on.

Sam was still chuckling and shaking his head. “I can’t believe she’d two-time Dirk with his own brother!”

OH! So THAT’S what was going on! “Well, I don’t know for sure,” I confided, “but nothing would surprise me with that girl.”

“You got that right, Al.” He took another bite of his cheeseburger before saying, “But you still haven’t answered my question.”

“And that would be...?”

“What do you think of Dirk? Do you find HIM attractive?” Sam flashed me an evil grin, “Does he turn YOU on?”

Oh, so we were back to that topic. Should’ve known it would come back to bite me in the ass. “Ya’ know,” I began, waving around a French fry for emphasis, “I’ll never understand why a woman would go through all that discomfort for nine months, all the pain and agony of childbirth, and then, when the kid pops out she takes one look at it and says, ‘Dirk’!”

He started to laugh, “Well, he may have a dumb name, but he has all those muscles, that strong chin, the Barrymore profile—you don’t find him handsome?”

I turned to face my partner, my friend, my best pal and suddenly saw him in a new light. It was as if I was seeing him for the first time, from a female’s point of view. He was young, and of course he hadn’t come close to fulfilling his true potential, but it was all there: the shiny, tawny hair; classic boy-next-door looks; that beautiful, guileless face, dominated by that bodacious Beckett schnozola. But what about those eyes—deep, hazel, caring, sensitive and as gentle as the man himself. And that absolutely devastating dimpled smile!

Now HE was handsome. Oh, not dashing or debonair like Errol Flynn or Cary Grant, but sweet and unassuming. I could tell from his tight tee-shirt and cut-off shorts he was at that awkward stage he was just growing out of when I had first met him, in *real* life—about five months from now. His limbs were still rather skinny and on the lanky side, not the well-defined athletic form that drove the girls crazy at the Project. I hated to admit it, but there were quite a few girls I had ALMOST lost to him. And for the first time, I could see why.

Either that, or it was the dollop of ketchup smudged across his nose.

I took my napkin, dipped it in my glass of water and carefully wiped him clean; he gave me an appreciative grin. I had no idea who this Dirk person was or what he looked like, but even by Sam’s description, there was no contest...Sam was the winner, hands down.

I sighed, exasperatedly, “Sammy, I can say in all honesty, that Dirk does absolutely nothing for me.”

But unfortunately, Sam did.

He smiled, that charismatic go-for-the-guts kind of smile he always wore when he was pleased. “Glad to hear it. Can I have your cherry?”

I choked on my burger. “WHAT?!” I sputtered out.

He pointed to my milkshake. “Your maraschino cherry. You told me you’re allergic to them.”  
“Oh, yes, yes, of course.” Good thing he knew that; it could’ve been bad news if I’d eaten it. I fished it out of my glass—guess I should have used a spoon—and fed it to him. A jolt of electricity shot through me as my fingers came in contact with his warm, wet mouth; his tongue reflexively licked some of the chocolate goo from my fingertips. I looked at him—his eyes hit mine...

And we had a real moment, an earth-shattering moment. A true turning point.

We finished the meal in silence, save for the customers roaming the store and the songs coming from the corner jukebox. When the check came, Sam did pay for my lunch (against my bitter protests) and after bidding good-bye to Margie, we headed out, hand-in-hand.

Something caught my attention as we reached the front door: a passport photo-booth sat in the corner next to a couple of coin-operated kiddie-sized mechanical horses. It drew me like a magnet, and before Sam knew what was happening, he found himself sitting in it, me on his lap, while it snapped off four comical photos of us. We laughed so hard when they developed, we rushed back in for four more. We mugged it up bad for three of the pictures then, suddenly, turned serious for the fourth one.

It turned out as a perfect shot of two young kids experiencing love for the first time. The affection and devotion were evident in Sam’s eyes, but I was surprised to see it in my eyes as well. I didn’t know my deep feelings for Sam would show up on film so plainly. On Allie’s pretty face, it looked like utter adoration. The photo stunned and frightened me enough that I handed that strip to Sam and kept the first strip for myself.

One more purchase was made as we left the store. Across the street was a huge public park that was just begging for two more Frisbee players, and we figured we fit the bill nicely.

It was a gorgeous, sunny afternoon, unseasonably warm, and with all the trees and flowers and fresh-cut grass, it was like Eden. The place was littered with people, young and old, just out enjoying the day. Some were reading, some sunbathing, some feeding birds and some, like us, playing games. In the not-too-far distance, someone had a tape deck going, and the area was awash with the sounds of The Beatles, The Doors, The Who and others. Everything was so peaceful, so perfect it was hard to imagine any unrest in the world—an illusion, of course, with Vietnam still waging. But that day, in that park, those troubles could be forgotten.

Sam and I were not very good Frisbee players, or at least *I* wasn’t. Whenever I threw it, you could never predict where it would go, and certainly never in the direction I intended. Sam’s efforts, meanwhile, would fly well—a little too well. I found myself constantly running after throws that sailed three feet over my head and landing 20 feet from where I was standing. Well, at least I was burning off the calories from all those fattening fries.

The game ground to a stop when I actually threw a competent arc that caused Sam to scramble backwards to catch it. He must’ve tripped on a rock or tree root, because the next thing I knew, he was flat on his back, unmoving. I let out a scream and ran to my fallen friend, collapsing on my knees beside him. I waited, but he wasn’t moving.

_Oh my God, I killed him!!_

I anxiously looked him over; there was no blood visible. I carefully cupped his head and lifted it a fraction to check for any damage but there was none. Just as I was about to gently place his head back on the ground, his arms wrapped around me and pulled me down into a playful kiss on the cheek.

“Gotcha,” he laughed.

“You bastard!” I dropped his head and it landed with a dull ‘thud’.

“OW!”

I was so upset, my vow to watch my language went right out the window. “You deserve it. I thought you were hurt, you sonuvabitch!”

“Naw, I’m fine, Allie.”

“But not for long!” I jumped on top of him, and we started wrestling. Well, that might be an exaggeration. Mostly, we just rolled around in the soft grass with Sam laughing and begging for mercy. I finally had his arms pinned behind him; I sat on his chest and proudly proclaimed, “You’ll get no mercy from me, Beckett.”

His eyes got huge, perhaps from a combination of both real and mock fright. (After all, I HAD been acting weird lately.) “What are you going to do to me?”

Good question. What was a 5’, 5” 105 lb girl going to do to a 6’, 160+lb man? That’s always been my problem: I’m a man of action, but never stop to think where those actions can lead me. It was obvious I couldn’t overpower him, but maybe I could give him a taste of his own medicine.

“This!” I leaned forward and kissed him. And I do mean kissed! Like Sam Beckett had never been kissed before. Lips, tongue, teeth, I devoured it all.

At first, he was shocked—this was certainly a change from the adolescent bumblings of last night—but after a few seconds, he got into it, moving his mouth as he couldn’t move his hands. I found him giving as good as he was getting. Damn! And I thought *I* was a great kisser! It turned into a battle of wills to see who could last the longest, and who would run out of breath first.

We didn’t get a chance to find out as a strolling cop came by and broke it up. I stared down into Sam’s beautifully flushed face—he looked into mine. And we sighed simultaneously, “OH BOY!!!”

~xxxXxxx~

**SAM:**

This day just kept going from bad to worse. I must’ve torn my office apart for nearly two hours looking for those damn divorce papers, but they had disappeared, vanished into thin air. I had to get those things back to the lawyer and soon, or...or...what? I’d have to stay married to Donna? Ooh, a chill ran down my back just thinking about it.

I was digging through my trashcan for the tenth time, (hey, you never know—they might magically reappear) when the intercom buzzed. Beeks wanted me in for a ‘session’. I tried to beg out, telling her I had to get back to the Imagining Chamber and check in on Al, but she was insistent. I left the garbage on the floor, so I wouldn’t lose my place in my search, and reluctantly headed towards Verbena’s office.

On the way, I decided to stop off at the cafeteria and get a cup of cappuccino. Okay, it was out of my way, actually, but I guess I was trying to prolong the inevitable. I reached into my wallet to pay Opal, the cashier, when I saw something that startled me, no, that’s not right. It shook me from head to toe so badly I dropped my wallet on the floor. Opal kindly handed it back to me, but I was too stunned to thank her. I left, without my coffee, and ran to Bena’s office.

I arrived, frazzled and almost hyperventilating. Bena jumped up from behind her desk and immediately came over to help me to a chair. Once she had me seated, she quietly inquired what was wrong. I wasn’t quite so quiet, or calm. I threw my wallet at her and yelled, “THIS!! This is what’s wrong!!”

She flipped it open and gave me a puzzled look. “What’s the problem? Not enough dinero? What am I supposed to be seeing?”

I yanked it back from her and showed her the picture in the front holder. “This picture. Don’t you get it?”

She gently took the photo from me and gazed at it for a moment. “You’re very young here, Sam, and rather handsome. Who’s the pretty girl?”

I let out an exasperated breath. “That’s Allie.”

Her eyebrows shot up so high they vanished beneath her bangs. “The Allie that’s in the Waiting Room?”

“No, yes, no...” I stammered. “I don’t know. I’ve never seen that picture before.”

That certainly got her attention. She pulled up another chair and sat opposite me. She held up the picture again. “What do you mean you don’t know if it’s Allie?”

“That’s not what I said,” I cautiously began. “It IS Allie, but it’s not the one in the Waiting Room. WE never sat for a photo like that.”

“Maybe you just forgot, Sam. A lot has been happening here the last couple of days,” she tried to reason.

“Bena, you’re not hearing me. That picture was not in my wallet a couple of days ago. It wasn’t there last night. But I just tried to buy a cup of cappuccino, and the damn thing was staring me in the face.”

“But if you and Allie never posed for it...?” she tried to figure out.

“The ‘Allie’ that’s back there now must have.” I took a deep breath and slowly let it out, trying to calm myself down, but my Zen yoga wasn’t working this time. “What the hell is Al doing back there? He’s only supposed to be getting ready for a college exam. What’s he doing having his picture taken with me?”

She studied the photo again before answering me, “I don’t know...but I can recognize two people who are obviously in love.” At my blank stare, she continued, “Take a good look at it—it’s written all over the faces. You were nuts about her.”

I took the wallet from her, distressed that my hands were shaking. She was right; I was gazing upon Allie with undisguised adoration. “Yes, I was crazy about her.” I agreed. The fact that ‘Allie’ had the same adoring look on ‘her’ face was something I couldn’t deal with at the moment, and thankfully, Bena refrained from mentioning it.

“Yet you never mentioned her before,” she prodded.

“It was a long time ago. Do you talk about your college sweetheart to everyone you know?” I figured that would end the topic. I was wrong.

“Not to everyone, but yes, I do still talk about Desmond. He was a great guy. He didn’t hurt me the way Allie apparently did you.”

I hated how she seemed to know things about me that no one had the right to know. “How do you know she hurt me?” I tired to bluff, unsuccessfully.

“I guessed.” At my surprised expression, she shrugged her shoulders. “Sometimes I get ‘em right. So, what happened?”

I mumbled, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Have you talked to Al about it?”

I looked away from her scrutinizing glare. “No. Why should I?”

“Because he might need that information to complete the leap,” she replied, patiently.

“He doesn’t need to know anything,” I stated, adamantly. “I told you, it’s all water under the bridge.”

“No, it’s not...” she insisted, “not the way you’re acting. You may have tried to bury all this, but now it’s bubbling to the surface. Without some closure...”

That’s when I stood up and moved to leave. “You know I hate those new-age terms, Bena. It’s all bull. I’ve dealt with it, all right?”

She just stayed seated. “All right. You’ve dealt with it,” she said, without conviction.

“Good. I’ll be in the Imagining Chamber if you need me.” I was halfway out the door when I turned back and asked, out of curiosity, “By the way, Bena, have you seen my divorce papers?”

Her brow furled. “What divorce papers?”

“The papers Donna’s lawyer sent me. I need to get them back to my lawyer by Friday afternoon and I can’t seem to find them.”

“Who’s Donna?” I thought she was jerking me around, but she seemed genuinely confused.

The hair stood up on my neck. Instinctively, I shouted out, “Ziggy, where the hell is Donna?”

**“There’s no reason to yell,”** Ziggy petulantly answered. **“I can hear you. And you really should watch your language.”**

“Not today, Zig. I’m not in the mood. Just tell me where Donna is.”

Her answer was far from reassuring. **“Doctor Donna Elisse is currently located in Langley, Virginia, on a top secret project. You two have never dated in this timeline.”**

I took my time and worded the next sentence carefully. “WHY haven’t we dated in this timeline?”

It seemed Ziggy worded her answer just as carefully. **“You were unavailable, Doctor Beckett. And even Donna is too ethical to go after an attached man.”**

My heart pounded faster as dozens of scenarios flashed through my mind. Whatever Al was doing back there was changing everything; it was only a matter of time before he went too far. With Bena calling after me, I sprinted towards the Imagining Chamber, to stop Al before he wiped Project Quantum Leap off the map.

The first thing I encountered was a beautiful park on a beautiful early summer day. With some manipulation of the handlink, I centered myself near Al. What I saw broke my heart.

I watched the two of them, playing Frisbee in the afternoon sunshine. I heard their bantering and their teasing and their playful insults. I witnessed the way I baited Allie, falsely making her believe I was hurt. I saw the way we kissed…and I was in love again.

It was as if what had transpired 25 years ago was a bad dream I had finally woken from. Gone were the pain, the hurt, the betrayal, and the anger; they’d been replaced with the beauty, the joy, and the sweetness of first love. Allie’s hair glistened in the sun, the ever-present light flush of her cheeks and those sparkling brown eyes that reminded me so much of Al’s—all at once a mixture of extreme intelligence and childlike wonder, limitless mirth and fathomless sorrow, exceedingly caring and excessively cautious. Long after she had exited my life, those eyes had haunted my dreams.

But now it never happened. I watched them—two crazy kids discovering the miracle of love for the first time, and I envied them. Everything that could’ve been mine, everything that SHOULD’VE been mine. My wallet seemed to burn me through my hip pocket...

Everything that was NOW mine. That was ME playing Frisbee with her, ME who was laughing with her, ME who was kissing her, ME who was getting chased out of the park by a cop with her. Me and Allie, the way it ought to have been.

What the hell was Al doing? I could understand a hug or a peck on the cheek to maintain appearances sake, but this was above and beyond the call of duty. Even as they walked back to the car, it was Al that initiated the hand holding, it was Al that bouncing up and kissing me on the cheek or the lips, it was Al that patted me on the butt! I didn’t know what was going on with him, but I was starting to think Bena was right.

It was time I had a serious talk with Al, as much as I dreaded it, before he did some irreversible damage.

~xxxXxxx~

**AL:**

I was sitting at the vanity table brushing ‘my’ hair when I heard the Imaging Chamber door slide open behind me. ‘Bout time, too. It had been nearly 18 hours since I last saw Sam. I never would’ve left him alone that long...would I? No, I couldn’t remember ever doing that. But then, since I couldn’t remember jack-shit, I didn’t put too much stock in it.

I waited, but he wasn’t talking. No problem, I could wait longer. I kept brushing my hair, whistling to myself, as the silence grew between us. I couldn’t see him in the mirror (as holograms didn’t reflect), but that was no excuse. He knew I knew he was there. If I had wanted to, I could have broken the tension, but that was his job. Let him stew.

After a couple of minutes of my ignoring him, he cleared his throat, and gave a little cough. I turned slowly in my chair, and looked at him with exaggerated surprise. “Oh, hi Sam...I didn’t hear you come in,” I said, sarcastically.

“You’re mad, aren’t you?” he asked, but he already knew the answer.

“Now why would I be mad with you, Sam?” I replied, my voice dripping with honey. “Just because you totally abandoned me here in a leap with no explanation as to your disappearance and very little information as to what the hell I’m supposed to be doing here?!” My voice got louder, the anger creeping in against my will. “Should any of THAT make me mad?”

He ignored my accusations except for one. “I told you why you’re here. You’re supposed to make sure Allie passes her Astronomy exam on Monday, but you seem to be doing everything else except preparing for that test.”

I don’t know if I was more furious or shocked. “You were spying on me without my knowledge.” It wasn’t so much a question as a statement of fact.

“No, I was monitoring you,” he responded, defensively. “I HAD to. I had to find out what you were up to after this showed up this morning.” He reached into his pants pocket and removed his wallet. He flipped it open and showed me one of the photos from the strip we had just taken at Margie’s Diner. It was slightly worn and yellowed with age—a very disconcerting feeling, as it was pristine less than two hours ago. “Would you mind explaining this, and the fact that you were playing Frisbee instead of studying?”

I let out a loud breath and cast my eyes downward. Cat was out of the bag. “I was trying to keep you and your girlfriend together,” it came out in a bare whisper.

Sam was beside himself. “Why the hell were you trying to do that?!”

My Italian temper began to flair up. “Because I think you and Ziggy are full of shit, that’s why!”

The words stung Sam badly. “What do you mean, Al?” he asked, unsure he wanted to hear the answer.

“Your theory why I leaped here,” I clarified. “I think you’re both way off.” At his confused expression, I continued. “Look, Sammy, I’ve had a lot of time to think about this. If I were here just to make sure Allie passed that exam, wouldn’t it make more sense to just leap in DURING the damn thing?! Why did I leap in here four days before the actual event? Why did I leap in at that exact moment?” He didn’t answer me, but his face lost all its color, and I knew I was on the right track. “Something happened between you two in those days, right?”

He wouldn’t look at me; all I got was a small nod and a smaller, “Yeah.”

“Bad enough to break the two of you up?” I pressed.

He suddenly became very interested in the handlink. Then the floor. Then the drapes. His eyes wandered everywhere but he refused to look back at me. He really had my dander up now. “Fine, Sam,” I spit out. “Don’t tell me. I’ll figure it out on my own...like I have this whole leap.” I turned my back on him and went back to fixing my hair, happy that I had something to do that would hide how bad my hands were shaking.

It must’ve been five minutes before I heard a huge intake of air and he spoke again. “We never actually broke up.” I didn’t say anything, waiting for him to continue. This was obviously difficult for him; I wasn’t going to make it worse by pressing him. He finally added, “We just never spoke again.”

I turned around to face him, and gently urged him, “Sammy, just say it. Whatever it is, just get it off your chest. You’ll feel better, and maybe it’ll help me with this leap.”

He sank to the floor, and sat down Indian-style. He cast his eyes downward, idly playing with the handlink, before starting cautiously, “Allie and I had gone out to Lovers’ Lane. It was her idea, but I didn’t give her a fight. It was something we both wanted. Anyway, we were...you know...”

“Yeah, I know,” remembering the incident well.

“And, things got a little out of control,” he finished.

I didn’t like what I was hearing. “What did you do, Sam? Did you attack her?”

His eyes lifted, filled with angry fire. “NO! How could you even THINK that?”

“Well, what am I supposed to think? What the hell happened out there that was so bad?”

“I...came...in my pants,” he confessed haltingly, his cheeks burning bright red, but he seemed to relax once the words were out.

I swear I almost laughed. Not at him—hell, it’s happened to me once or twice and there’s nothin’ funny about it—but at the whole situation. Here I was, expecting the worst, and it was just an itchy trigger finger, so to speak. “That’s it? That’s what all this secrecy has been about?”

“It may not be a big deal to you, but it was to me,” he explained. “One minute we were kissing and the next…god, what a mess! I was so embarrassed. Allie was very understanding. She kept saying it was okay, but it effectively ended the date.”

“And that’s why you kids stopped talking to each other?” There had to be more to this story.

“Well, in a way,” he hedged. “See, the next day, it was all over the campus. I didn’t know gossip could spread so fast. God, and that physics group I was supposed to lead that night! Total disaster. They kept ribbing me, making obscene noises and gestures and obnoxious comments. I finally ran out in tears, which just made the abuse worse the next day as THAT episode made the rounds. And the stuff they were saying about Allie—enough to make you sick. It was like being in a nightmare I couldn’t wake up from.”

“Maybe that’s why she never went back to college,” I mused. “So, where was Allie during all this?”

“She just seemed to disappear. I couldn’t find her anywhere. She wasn’t in her room; she wasn’t at the library. I finally saw her Saturday afternoon in the Student Union, but she ran out before I could talk to her. She never showed up for the study session we had planned to help her get ready for that Astronomy exam. I never spoke to her again, and I never found out why she did it.”

“Did what?” I questioned.

He looked at me incredulously. “Duh, Al...why she spilled the beans.”

“Actually Sam, I think YOU spilled the beans.” I know it was cruel, but I couldn’t hold my tongue.

He shot daggers at me. “Watch your step, Al.”

“Just kidding. Come on, it was 25 years ago. You can laugh about it now.”

“I’ll never be able to laugh about it. It was the most humiliating moment of my life.” He shook his head ruefully. “I can’t believe she betrayed me like that.”

“She didn’t do it, Sam,” I stated, confidently.

“How do you know that?” he asked, curiously.

I was evasive. “Because she was crazy about you. She’d never do anything to hurt you like that.”

“And how do you know THAT?” he demanded.

“I read her diary, okay?” I admitted.

“AL! How could you? That’s low.”

I was exasperated. “I had to do something. You weren’t giving me any information. I thought it might help, and it did.” I tried to calm down. “Look, it’s not important now. All that matters is that there is no way Allie told anyone.”

“Well, SOMEBODY did. And since there were only two people out there, and *I* certainly didn’t say anything, that only leaves one other person.”

“But who would she have told? She didn’t have any friends besides you.”

“Maybe she told Josie,” he concluded.

“Sam, listen to yourself. Josie? Allie hates her as much as I do. She’d never tell her something so personal. That’s something she’d only tell...” I let the sentence die. It was so apparent.

“Tell who?” Sam asked.

I started digging around in the bottom drawer until I found it. “Not who, what.” I pulled the book out. “Her diary, Sam. She must’ve written it in her diary.”

The light bulb came on. “And Josie read it,” he whispered in disbelief.

“Then that bitch blabbed it all over the campus.” Mystery solved.

He sat quietly for a moment then asked, “So what happened this time—what did you change?”

“Well, first of all, that incident never happened.” At his puzzle look, I explained, “I leaped in before your ‘little accident’—THAT ended the date before anything else could happen. And second of all, I haven’t made any entries in the diary. She had no ammunition against you.” Something he said just registered with me. “Wait a minute, I thought you said you never saw Allie again.”

“That’s right.”

“Well, I saw you this morning, when Josie was making a play for you. Matter of fact, you were here to ‘kidnap’ me. I heard Josie’s threat, but didn’t put much stock in it.”

“What threat?” he asked.

“That you’d be sorry because you wouldn’t sleep with her.”

He thought for a minute. “I remember that now. I HAD come to get Allie, but she had already headed off for the library.”

I picked up the narrative. “But because *I* was here instead of Allie, I slept in late and threw off her schedule. I WAS here this time when you came for me, and we spent the afternoon together.” I stopped for a moment and looked at Sam. “I just don’t understand WHY she did it. I mean, she HATES you.”

“Yeah, but Allie liked me. I was dating her roommate—that made me fair game. You know how some girls collect shoes or antiques? Well, Josie collected male egos.”

“And from what I know of her, she had a helluva collection.” I looked at my partner and asked the one question I know he was thinking as well, “So, if I changed history, and no rumors are circulating and Allie has no reason not to go to that study session...”

“Why haven’t you leaped?” Sam finished. He started punching buttons on the handlink. “According to Ziggy’s predictions, there’s still a 73.8% chance Allie is going to fail this exam.” He looked back at me, “Gee, I guess that study session didn’t help her as much as I thought it would.”

“Or something else goes wrong between now and then.” I heaved a heavy sigh. “I have to take that damn exam, don’t I?”

“It’s starting to look that way.”

“Great. I hate taking tests...don’t I?” I asked, not sure.

He chuckled. “Yeah, but you always did well on them. I don’t think Allie’s got anything to worry about.”

“Hey, speaking of exams, what about her others? If she’s not due to leap until Monday, how will she get a chance to study for her other tests?”

“No problem. The Astronomy exam was her last one. That’s what made it all the more frustrating. She aced all the others, and had four whole days to study for it. Poor kid.” He shook his head sadly. “You know, I still can’t believe I blamed Allie for all these years. It was so obvious that it was Josie all along. Why didn’t I see it?”

“You were hurt, kid,” I explained. “And you were so convinced it HAD to be Allie because, as you said, only the two of you knew what had happened that night. You just couldn’t see the forest for the trees. But now, none of that has happened. Everything’s going to be fine, Sam.”

“What do you mean by that, Al?”

I leaned in, and told him, confidentially, “I can get this girl for you, Sam. You and Allie can be together, like it should’ve been.”

“You can’t do that.”

“Sure I can. It’ll be easy.”

Shaking his head emphatically, he announced, “That’s impossible.”

“No it’s not,” I insisted. “I can...”

He cut me off sternly. “Al, listen to me carefully. I shouldn’t be telling you this, but you have to know what’s going on before it’s too late. The next few months are vital, for both of us.” Letting out a huge sigh, he mumbled, “Oh, shit, I’m going to get into so much trouble for this.” Finally he leveled those hypnotizing hazel eyes at me and began. “Okay, you were repatriated about eight weeks ago. Right now, Lieutenant Commander Albert Calavicci is in Bethesda Naval Hospital, for observation and to recuperate. You’ve already found out Beth has left you and you don’t really know what to do with your life. The doctors are going to suggest you back to school to keep your mind busy. You agree with them, and choose Tufts University.”

I sat there stunned, listening to Sam tell my story, watching as the pieces of my life started falling back into place. I couldn’t help it—I started to cry. I had a past again!! It didn’t sound like a happy past, but it was MINE! I knew Sam was breaking every rule in the book by telling me all this; there had to be a reason he would risk so much. “What does this have to do with Allie?”

“EVERYTHING!” he exclaimed. “After the fiasco at Syracuse, I couldn’t get out of there fast enough. When the fall semester rolled around I was at a new college…Tufts. Do you see where this is going, Al?”

It was starting to come back to me. “We were roommates...”

“Not right away. We met one night at the pizza parlor on campus.”

A smile came through my tears at the memory. “Ziggy’s.”

Nodding, he continued, “Right. It was a Friday night, and really crowded. I was sitting by myself, and you asked if you could share my table. And we just started talking.” He gave me a big smile, and an even bigger sigh, “You were the first person I ever met who understood me, who could follow my thoughts and ideas, who didn’t think I was crazy. We ended up closing down the place that night, and you had moved in with me by the following weekend. I was the one who encouraged you to follow your dream when NASA came calling. You were there for me when my family lost the farm. I was the one who pulled you out of the bottle after every divorce. And you were the one who made me believe Project Quantum Leap could become a reality. We worked on it every spare moment we had over the years.”

His eyes pleaded with me for understanding. “Al, that night in Ziggy’s was a turning point in both our lives. It was the night we became lifelong friends and partners. We HAVE to meet three months from now at Tufts and I can’t do that if I stay here with Allie.”

“But Sam—” I began.

“AL! This isn’t open for discussion. Allie and I were not meant to be, okay? Just take that damn exam and leap the hell out of here before you change anything else.” I don’t think I’ve ever seen Sam as upset with me as he was right then. And I knew everything he said was true, but there was this feeling deep inside of me that told me I was still right about this leap. But to Sam, all I did was contritely nod in agreement.

I watched him as he unfurled from his seated position and was about to dial up his departure when he slapped his forehead in frustration. “Dammit! I almost forgot—I need your textbook title and edition...Allie wants to get some studying in.”

I looked at him, skeptically. “Sam, I’m taking that exam, remember? And besides, she’ll forget everything she memorizes once she leaps back anyway.”

“I know that, and you know that, but she’s still worried about this exam. Maybe it’ll take her mind off of what’s going on.”

I got out her textbook, and he read off the information to Gushie. When he was done, he punched in his exit code and the white-lit door opened, leading to his freedom. He had taken a couple of steps towards it when he turned back to me and quietly said, “Thank you, Al.”

I snorted, “For what? A book title?”

“No, for what you did. I may still have the memories of what happened the first time around, but at least Allie will never experience that pain and humiliation. That alone makes this leap worthwhile. By the way, you better get going...you were supposed to be at work 15 minutes ago.” And with that, he was gone.

I dried my tears, and checked the mirror to make sure I was presentable. Eyes a little red and puffy, but it would have to do. I gathered up a couple of Allie’s textbook and her study notes with a heavy heart. I really wanted these two kids to have a happy ending, but it was more than that. I also wanted to get young Sam back as well.

Don’t get me wrong. My Sammy was a wonderful guy, but I wished I could give back to him that part he had lost. What I had always taken as excessive shyness around women was actually a wariness and mistrust he carried from his breakup with Allie. If only I could erase what happened to him so he’d only remember the good times.

I let out a deep sigh of resignation. He didn’t want me to do anything else except take the exam, so that’s what I would do...nothing.

But I didn’t have to be happy about it.

~xxxXxxx~

**SAM:**

I wasn’t afraid of Al getting into too much trouble after I left. He was due to work at the library until closing, about 11:00 pm, and my younger self was going to be busy with that undergraduate physics help session, so I knew they wouldn’t be seeing each other that night. Plus, according to Ziggy, young Sam was also scheduled to go to a special seminar the next day. As long as Al showed up at the study session I had set up with Allie, there should be nothing to prevent this leap from proceeding without incident.

I walked out of the Imaging Chamber, gave the handlink to Gushie, along with directions to contact me as soon as Allie’s book arrived from our extensive suppliers and headed back to the office for a well-deserved nap.

I got the call about 5:00pm that the book was waiting for me in ‘Receiving’. I trotted down, picked up the textbook, and then went to visit Verbena. She was sitting at her desk, typing notes in her laptop, in between bites of a large Caesar Salad. She raised her eyes at my knock and motioned me in. I set the book down and cut right to the chase. “Bena, I want to see Allie.”

She sighed deeply. “I don’t know, Sam. It’s very risky...”

I begged her, “Please, Bena. Just for a few minutes.”

She regarded me for a moment. “Did you talk to Al?”

“Yes. And you were right. He should’ve known everything right from the start.” I sat down across from her, and rested my arms on her desk. “And I learned some things, too. About myself. About Allie. Things I had wrong all these years. That’s why I have to see her.” I paused, and smiled tightly. “For some closure.”

She grinned and let out a small chuckle. Unlocking the middle drawer of her desk, she removed the Waiting Room security keycard and handed it to me. “So, who are you going to be?” she inquired.

I thought for a moment before I told her, “Doctor Thomas Miller. Tom’s my brother’s name; Miller was my mother’s maiden name.”

She nodded, quite pleased. “Good. Nice, simple, easy to remember. Well, be on your way, Doctor Miller, and good luck.”

I thanked her, picked up the book, and started the trek to the Waiting Room. I approached the room just as one of the assistants arrived with her supper. I dismissed the young intern, placed the book on the serving cart and, with bated breath, swiped the card.

‘Allie’ was lying face down across the examination table, perusing an old copy of Seventeen Magazine. When she heard the door open she put down it down and watched me as I pushed the cart into the room. She was looking at me so intently I started to get nervous. Could she know who I was? Maybe this was a bad idea after all. With one last tilt of her head, she spoke, “You’re new.”

I chuckled, awkwardly. “No, we just haven’t met yet. I’m Doctor Thomas Miller, but you can just call me Tom.”

“Hi, Tom,” she responded, without hesitation. “You can call me Allie.”

I smiled. The ruse had worked. “Hi, Allie. Nice to meet you.”

“Same here.” She closed her magazine and sat up on the table. “You’re not here to poke and prod me, are you? Like the other ‘doctors’?”

“No, I’m not that kind of doctor,” I assured her, even though I was.

My answer seemed to trouble her. “Oh no, not more psychoanalyzing?”

That got a good laugh out of me. Good ol’ Bena was at it again. “No, I’m a doctor of physics.”

“Oh.” She paused for a moment and then pondered, “You look familiar.”

Shit. This wasn’t good. Bena was going to kill me if I screwed this up. Thinking quick on my feet, I changed the subject, “Are you comfortable? Do you need anything?”

“No,” she sighed. “I’m fine. Everybody’s been so concerned about me and they’re so nice but...when can I go home Dr. Miller? No one will tell me that.”

“We’re working on it, sweetheart,” the endearment out before I could even stop it.

“I have a big exam coming up,” she continued. “I can’t miss it. My whole scholarship is riding on it.”

“We’ll get you back in time. I promise.”

She waved her hand around, taking in the whole room. “So, is all this yours?”

“I wish. I’m just one of the hired help. And as such, I’ve brought you dinner.” I removed the cover with a flourish. “Grilled chicken breast, wild rice, and summer squash.”

Taking an exaggerated sniff, she smiled, “Smells great. Thank you.”

“And, for dessert,” I pulled away the cloth I was using to hide her book. Her eyes grew large and she leaped off the table with a nimbleness I never expected from Al’s middle-aged body.

She ran over to me and grabbed up the tome. “My astronomy book!! Oh, thank you so much. I’ve lost so much study time.”

“I know...but you still have plenty of time left before your exam.”

“NEVER enough time to pass THIS one,” she sighed as she clutched the book tightly.

At that, I imparted, “You know, that was one of my favorite subjects in school. I found it very interesting.”

She looked uncomfortable. “Yeah, well, I didn’t take it because it interested me...I took it because with the rest of my workload, I thought it would be an easy A.” She lowered her eyes and shook her head. “I guess it’s my own fault. I let the class slide, concentrating on the harder ones. Now I’m so far behind, I’ll never get caught up.”

“Sure you will,” I said, trying to alleviate her fears. “You’re a bright girl. I’m sure you’ll do fine.”

“I wish I had your confidence,” she smiled, shyly. I had never seen that look before on Al’s face. It made him seem so vulnerable. “But thanks anyway.”

“You’re welcome, Allie.” I wanted to say more, apologize for everything I blamed her for, but what could I say? This girl had done nothing. That event never happened to her. Finding myself devoid of words, I figured it was time to take my leave. “Well, I guess I’ll be going now,” I shrugged, lamely.

I was surprised when she asked, with some distress, “Must you?”

“Is something wrong?” I queried, quite concerned.

She shuffled her feet nervously...DEFINITELY not something I ever expected to see ‘Al’ do. “No, it’s just, well, it’s so quiet and lonely here and I was enjoying our talk.” She stopped and looked around before she continued. “Don’t get me wrong. Doctor Beeks is nice, but she doesn’t really talk to me. I always feel like I’m under a microscope, and I’m afraid to say anything sometimes. But with you I feel...” She didn’t finish the sentence, but sighed instead. “Can’t you just stay a couple more minutes?”

The way she asked, already assuming the answer was no, broke my heart, but I had the feeling if I stayed in that room one more minute the whole charade would be exposed. “Oh, Allie, I wish I could, but I got some, ahh, reports, I have to finish.”

She took it with grace. “That’s okay...I understand.” The sadness in her—Al’s—eyes made me feel like a heel. My partner may have been in 1973 to help her, but she was here, looking to me, and I was turning her away. What kind of jerk am I?

“Allie, I got an idea. I get off work in a couple of hours...what about if I come back and help you study for that exam?”

Her eyes sparkled and the smile lit up the room. For a second, it looked like my Al again, when he’d get really excited. “You’d do that for me?”

I felt an ache in my chest. “I’d do anything for you,” I whispered, honestly, not knowing if I was confessing it to Al or Allie. Then I realized exactly what I had said and tried to cover it up, “Ah, anything to make you comfortable.” I carried her dinner tray over to the dining table in the corner, “Now, why don’t you tuck in here before it gets cold.”

She came over and sat down, then took a bite of squash. “Delicious. So I’ll see you tonight?”

“I promise,” I promised.

“Thanks, Tom,” she smiled, and started in on her meal.

~xxxXxxx~

**AL:**

It must’ve been sometime after 11:30 that I finally got out of the library. I had been a bad boy, ah, girl—whatever. Instead of studying, I had spent most of my time thinking about Sam. Oh, not the way I’m sure Allie did, but about what he had said, his fear that I would do something to change our futures permanently, and trying to figure out just what WOULD happen to PQL if we never met. I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life as Allie, but if PQL is never built, then how could I leap back into her and be trapped in 1973 and...and my head was KILLING me.

That fundamental time paradox kept running through my mind as I crossed the campus. I encountered only a couple of other students at that time of night, but I was so preoccupied I barely noticed them. I probably would’ve missed the one standing near the huge stone wall off to my right, too, if it wasn’t for the unmistakable sound of a spray can being used, and if there’s one thing you don’t do on my watch, it’s deface nature—especially with spray paint!

Before I fully knew what I was doing, I was charging at the vandal, demanding, “Hey, what the hell are you doing?!” with as much authority as Allie’s girlish voice would give me. The person took one look at me, and ran off, dropping the can during flight. When I got to the spot, I picked up the can, using a piece of colorful cloth that the perpetrator had also apparently dropped.

As I stood up, I caught a glimpse of what the jerk had been writing on the wall. In huge red letters that couldn’t be missed by anyone walking to class the next morning were the words:

**Sam Beckett is a fag**

I was so mad, I thought I was going to scream! What the hell was with these kids, that they hated Sam so much? What the hell did that sweet guy ever do to any of them? At that moment, I promised myself that he had NOTHING to worry about—the LAST thing I would do was mess up the past so he would be stuck here with these animals instead of getting to Tufts!

I was about to throw the paint can into a nearby trashcan, when I took a really good look at the scrap of cloth—and recognized the pattern. If I was mad before, I was now apocalyptic! That BITCH!!! I was going to tear her apart, limb from scrawny limb! I was going to make her wish she had never been born! I was...

Going to get revenge.

I shook up the spray can and took aim. I was going to hate myself in the morning—heck I hated myself right now—but if my idea worked, this message was going to be washed off before morning anyway. It only took a few minutes, and when it was done, I stepped back to admire my handiwork...

**And Dirk Edmonds is his Boyfriend**

Smiling to myself, I practically skipped back to my room, hoping for the first time all leap that Josie was there waiting for me.

~xxxXxxx~

Well, for once I got my wish. Josie was sitting on the bed, painting her toenails when I came in. What was it with her and painting things tonight? I went over to my desk and dropped my books down upon it. She looked up, and feigned surprise, “Oh, Allie—you’re finally back. I was starting to worry about you.”

I ignored her, and started getting ready for bed. My silent treatment didn’t seem to bother her as she continued to ramble, “It was getting so late and I know the library closed nearly an hour ago and I was wondering what was keeping you and then I thought you may be on a date but...”

“Josie, spare me, okay? I’m not in the mood tonight.”

“Well, excuse me. I’m only trying to make conversation. It’s no reason to bite my head off and...”

“And...I found this on my way home today.” I held up the wispy scarf. “Does it look familiar?”

I saw the fear in her eyes for a split second before she fell back into her confident pose. “Oh, thank goodness. I lost that on the way to the dining hall and it matches my favorite dress and I never thought I’d ever see it again.”

Before she could go any further, I held up the spray can, “Did you happen to lose THIS, too?”

This time the fear couldn’t be covered over as quickly, but she tried her best. “Ahhh, Allie, I...I don’t know what you’re talking about. Why would I lose...?”

But I didn’t let her finish her lie. I walked over to her and pulled her up by the neckline of her flimsy negligee. She gave a yelp of surprise, but I just ignored her. Giving her my best Admiral Stare-Down, I growled, “Josie—DON’T—FUCK—WITH—ME!!”

I thought her eyes were going to bug out of her head. This had been boiling in me since I leaped in, and she was going to get it. I didn’t care if she was going to grow up to be Honeypie Monroe. Right now, she was just some white-trash slut named Josie Hooker—and she was going to get a piece of my mind.

I gave her a couple of shakes, trying to knock some brains into her. “I have had to put up with your shit for a whole year, and I have HAD IT! I’m stuck here for at least another three days—I don’t want to see you, I don’t want to hear you, I don’t want to talk to you. I don’t want anything to do with you. I want you to be invisible. And after this term ends, I don’t want to know about your existence! Got it?!” When she didn’t react fast enough, I gave her another shake. “I SAID, GOT IT??!!”

She nodded her head and answered meekly, “Yes, I got it.”

“Good.” I pushed her back on her bed, and got my face right in her grill. “And so help me God, if you do or say anything, ANYTHING, to hurt me or Sam Beckett again, I swear on a stack of Bibles you’ll wish you and anyone you’ve ever KNOWN were never born. GOT THAT, BLONDIE?!”

“But Allie,” she began, but I silenced her with a finger pointed menacingly at her face.

“No ‘buts’, Josie. One more word, and I send that can to the Dean to be fingerprinted. You’ll be called on the carpet faster than you were at your last frat party! DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?!”

She reached down onto the floor and grabbed a pair of shoes. After she got them on, she slid off the bed. “I...I...um...I think I’m going to go study at Dirk’s tonight.”

“Yeah, you do that—unless he’s found out about Roger,” I sneered.

Oh, the look was precious. “You wouldn’t...” she managed to get out before her voice cracked.

I just glared at her. “Try me.”

“I...I...” That’s as far as she got. Grabbing a book off her desk, she ran for the door—in just her teddy.

As she fled from the room, I called out after her, “And make sure you stay there the whole weekend!” I looked around at the suddenly empty, suddenly quiet room and flopped on my bed with a squeal of delight.

Free at last, free at last!

~xxxXxxx~

**SAM:**

I went back to see Allie that night, just as I promised, but the poor girl was overwhelmed. I spent most of the time there reassuring her—seems she had lost even more memory than we thought, or at the least in regards to her studies. She was sobbing that she had to start from page one, and there was no way she’d be ready for her final; I kept telling her everything would be all right, and that her memories would return in time for the exam. (Well, I HOPED they would.) I explained to her it might be better to put it aside for the night, and start fresh in the morning, and I would come back to help her the next night.

The rest of the time, well, I just talked to her, about her hopes, her dreams, her...Sam. Of all her memories, the ones of me seemed to be the most intact.

“So, who is this Sam?” I asked, as we munched on the fresh popcorn I had microwaved and brought with me. Hey, you can’t study without snacks, right? “Is he your boyfriend?”

She blushed, a light crimson hue touching Al’s cheeks; it looked good on him. “Well, yeah. We only started dating a few weeks ago, but he’s a boy and he’s a friend—so...”

“So...I guess he qualifies,” I chuckled.

Giving me a big smile, she grabbed a handful of popcorn for herself. “It’s still so new to me,” she continued. “I’ve never had a REAL boyfriend before. I had a steady in high school, but NOTHING like Sam. He’s so different from all the other guys I’ve ever known—he’s really special.”

THAT pumped up my ego a bit. “In what ways?” I asked. I knew it was somewhat egotistical of me, but I was only trying to make conversation. Okay, so I REALLY wanted to know, too.

She took a sip of Coke, studying the can as if she sensed there was something different about it. “Oh, he’s very serious most of the time, but when he wants to, he can be so funny—he makes me laugh so much.” As both of us reached for the popcorn at the same time we bumped hands, causing us to giggle a bit.

“Hey, I can make you laugh too,” I joked.

Al’s smiling face beamed back at me. “Yeah, you can.”

To cover my slight embarrassment, I asked, “So, ah, what else about Sam makes him so special?”

She sighed, “Oh, he’s kind and compassionate and so smart—but he never, ever makes you feel stupid.” She dropped her voice and told me secretly, “He’s a genius, you know.”

“I...I didn’t know that, no.”

“But he doesn’t flaunt it,” she shook her head in the negative, to highlight her words. “He’s so easy to talk to...and he REALLY listens to you. And he doesn’t always talk about sports or cars or—other girls.”

I had to laugh—I STILL didn’t like to talk about those things. “Wow, he DOES sound different.”

A pleased little smile came to Al’s face. “And he’s always there for me, too, anytime that I need someone to give me a hug, or a shoulder to cry on. It’s been kinda hard on me to be so far away from my home, and my family and my friends for the first time in my life. He was so wonderful when...” She suddenly stopped, and looked away.

I had a feeling I knew where she was going, but I still asked, “When...?”

She lowered her eyes for a moment, before looking back at me; they were as sad and tormented as my Al’s could be. “When my brother died. He was a Private in the army and...and he was killed on a mission in Vietnam a few months ago.” Tiny tears formed in her eyes and slid down her cheeks. It may be 1998 to me, but to her, it was still 1973, and the wound was still raw—and it would be raw for a long time. I knew that from experience. The first time around, when Tommy had died...let’s just say that even though he’s alive and well now I still remember the horrible feelings of pain and loss and leave it at that.

It was very disconcerting to see ‘Al’ crying—I couldn’t remember ever seeing him shed any tears. I went to comfort her, but she just wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and chuckled, “I’m sorry...I just...sometimes, I just...” A shaky hand reached down for her soda.

“It’s okay, honey...I understand.” _Too well,_ I thought.

She sniffled, “So does Sam. He almost lost his only brother in an ambush a few years back. He was so good to me, Dr. Miller. He’d make time for me, no matter what else he had going on—just to check in on me or talk to me or give me a shoulder to cry on. He even filled in at the library for me for a few days when I just couldn’t handle it anymore.” She gave me a shy, hesitant smile, “He’s an absolute prince.”

Now *I * couldn’t help blushing. “He sounds pretty nice.”

Her smile got a bit wider, “Yeah, he is. REALLY nice. Do you know he was making time to help me study for this exam, even though he had his own to worry about?” That suddenly brought her up short, “By the way, what day is it?”

“Day?” I puzzled at that little non sequitur.

“Yeah, Sam’s coming back early from his symposium Saturday just to help me. He’ll be upset if I miss that study date.”

“I’m sure he’ll understand if you’re not there.”

She gave me a skeptical look, “You really think he'll understand that I was kidnapped by some nice scientists and they held me against my will while they fed me gourmet food and gave me a comfortable, quiet room so I could study?”

I had to laugh, “You’re got a pretty good sense of humor yourself. You two must make a fun couple.”

Again, the slight blush. It REALLY looked good on Al. “I don’t know if we’re a ‘couple’. We aren’t really looking for something that serious yet.”

This was good. I had to know where she stood on this subject, in case Al had put some thoughts into my younger self’s head with his stunt in the park. “Well, you know, sometimes love just sorta sneaks up on you when you least expect it. What if you two get more serious than you thought you would?”

“I don’t think that will happen. Sam’s got a lot of plans and so do I. I want to be a doctor and that’s a lot of work. I don’t have rich parents to pay my way through school—I have to keep my grades up and hope to get another scholarship or some low interest loans. I really don’t have time for a husband or a family right now.” She took a sip of her soda, and asked, “Where’s the pop-top?”

Well, I knew she was a smart girl. It was only a matter of time before she pieced it together. “Oh, ah...that’s a new kind of recyclable can that’s being test marketed,” I bluffed.

“Ah.” She digested that answer for a moment. “That would be good for the earth.”

“Yeah, it would. So, ah, anyway—what about Sam?” I awkwardly tried to steer the conversation back. “What if he feels differently, or has different ideas?”

She thought for a moment. “Well, he’s already been invited to another college next semester...I...I can’t remember which one. I DO know he’s real excited about it—he’s going to be studying with some professor he’s idolized for a long time now. He’s got so many things he wants to do with his life. Each week it’s something new. I just can’t see him throwing all that away to get married.”

Pausing for a moment, she continued, “But if, IF he wanted to get serious, I think we’d wait, until we both finished school. He knows how much I want to be a doctor, and besides, if you really love each other, what’s the hurry? If you’re afraid things will change during the time before the wedding, what will happen AFTER you’re married?” She giggled self-consciously, “Listen to me—we’ve gone out on only a handful of dates and I’m already planning the wedding!”

I couldn’t help smiling myself. Al just sounded so strange ‘giggling’. “There’s nothing wrong with that, Allie,” I assured her. “Sometimes you just instantly connect with someone. You’re not the first person to ever have those feelings.”

Taking a sip of soda, she nodded, “Yeah, I know, Doctor Miller. And while it's a fun fantasy, and I love spending time with Sam, I AM only 18 years old. I have my whole life in front of me. At this point, I can’t imagine getting married and settling down—even to someone as wonderful as Sam.”

When I left her room a little while later, I was feeling much more relieved. It was quite a load off my mind to know her intentions towards her relationship with my younger self. Perhaps this leap would have a successful conclusion after all.

~xxxXxxx~

**Saturday**   
**May 16, 1973**   
**AL:**

The next morning, I awoke late again. Damn, I could get used to this lifestyle, you know? After a quick shower, I trekked over to the Student Union, and laid in some supplies for the long hours ahead...after all, I had an exam to prepare for. I grabbed a few munchies, and some beverages, then headed back to my room. As I passed by the giant stone wall from the night before, I could barely suppress a giggle—it had been scrubbed clean.

The day went by far too quickly. But by 5:00, I knew that textbook inside and out. I may not have a photographic memory like a certain pain-in-the-butt genius I know, but I’m a quick learner, and it WAS just an introductory course, for flip’s sake! If I was going to be stuck here for that friggin' exam, then by god, Allie was going to get an A++, or my name wasn’t Al Calavicci.

Which, at the moment, I guess it wasn’t.

I took a few minutes for a dinner break—it was reassuring to know the food was as bad at this cafeteria as it is at any college—and hurried back to my room to get ready for my study session.

I was in the middle of putting on some eye shadow, when Sam decided to pop in. “Hey, Al—howzit hangin’?”

I turned, and gave him an exasperated look. “It ain’t. My buddy is in cold storage right now, and I don’t think I have to tell you I really miss the little guy.”

“Oh, he’s not so little,” he returned, with a grin.

“You pervert—you’ve been peeking!”

“What?! You used to flash us all the time in the shower room. It was hard NOT to see it!” he retorted, playfully.

“So, what brings you here, kid, except to cast doubts on my manhood?”

“Do I always need a reason? Maybe I just wanted to see you.”

“But you don’t see me. You see Allie,” I reminded him.

I caught him blushing. “That’s not what I meant, Al.”

“And no, I haven’t even seen your doppelganger since yesterday afternoon, so I haven’t done any more damage to the time stream,” I informed him before he could make another snide comment about my leaping skills.

“Ahhh, actually, yes you have,” he quickly corrected me. “What did you do to Honeypie?”

“Honeypie? What’s wrong with Honeypie?” I demanded.

“Well, you changed her future. She no longer marries Alexander Douglass.”

“Who’s that?”

“Her sugar daddy. If fact, not only does she never meet him, she never becomes a Vegas showgirl.”

“What...what happened to her?”

Consulting his little wrist link, he related, “Well, according to Ziggy this morning, she enrolls next semester in the Peace Corps.”

If I had been drinking anything, I would have done a spectacular spit-take. “THE PEACE CORPS!?”

“Uh-huh. And apparently she enjoyed it so much, she stayed on with them after the initial two-year tour. She worked in one of their field offices for nearly five years, and then branched out on her own. She’s currently living with a tribe in Borneo.”

I all but shrieked, “BORNEO? She lives in fucking Borneo?” As Sam nodded his head in bemusement, I muttered under my breath, “Well, I guess that was ONE way to avoid Allie.”

“What was that, Al?” Gotta learn to mutter more quietly.

Trying to act innocent (and failing miserably) I stammered, “Ah, nothing. Nothing. Nothing at all.”

“Didn’t sound like nothing,” he accused with his accursed perception. “Do you mind explaining to me WHY Josie would want to get away from Allie, hmmm?”

Oh, oh. I’m in deep sheep dip now. I decided on a delaying tactic. “Well, um, you see, it’s possible that, well, maybe...”

“Yes, Al?” It was obvious he wasn’t buying it, so I had no choice but to go with the truth. Dammit!

Bowing my head so I wouldn’t have to look at those accusing eyes, I mumbled, “I may have sorta threatened her.”

“THREATENED her?” he bellowed.

I raised my head proudly and looked him in the eye as I insisted, “She deserved it, Sam. You didn’t see what she did!”

He pinched the bridge of his nose to stem off the headache that was probably forming—he’d been doing that a lot since I started leaping. “Al...” he began, but I cut him off before he could finish.

“Now hold it one second, Beckett. How was *I * to know my telling her off would cause her to join the Peace Corps and run off to fucking Borneo? I bet not even the great and powerful Ziggy could have predicted THAT one!”

“Which is exactly why you have to watch yourself, Al,” he explained for the hundredth time. “You never know WHAT kind of ripple effect your actions will have.”

I heaved a deep sigh, “Is this another time travel lecture, Dr. Beckett?” Seems I got one every single leap lately.

He shook his head with a wry smile. “No, just some sound words of advice, my friend. Be careful, Al, that’s all. Tonight is a very important night—it could be the turning point in this whole leap. Your actions tonight could have many serious repercussions—a lot more serious than one less stripper shaking her bon-bons.”

“You’re still afraid we won’t meet up at Tufts, aren’t you?”

“Deathly,” he confessed. “It’s been my biggest fear since this whole leap began.”

“You know, Sam, I’ve been thinking...”

“I really wish you wouldn’t do that, Al,” he deadpanned. “It’s not your strong suit.”

I just plowed on as if I didn’t hear him. “If indeed I do something wrong on this leap, which caused you not to go to Tufts in the fall, and we never met, and we never become roommates and we never got together to create Project Quantum Leap and I couldn’t travel in time...then how the hell am I sitting here, in 1973, having this conversation with you?”

He gave a huge exasperated sigh. “I don’t fucking know, Al. And quite frankly, I don’t WANT to know, either.”

“Don’t you think that maybe God or Fate or Time or Whatever the hell is leaping me around has already taken that into consideration? That maybe, no matter what I do, there are certain things Time will not allow to happen? Maybe no matter what I do, time will straighten itself out?”

“You’re saying there are some things that are just destined to happen? And our meeting is one of them?”

“Exactly,” I proclaimed, glad that he finally saw my point of view.

“Interesting theory, Dr. Calavicci—but I don’t want to be around if it turns out to be a crock. Just—just go to the study session tonight, pass the test, and get the hell out of here as soon as you can,” he ordered.

“Fine,” I fired angrily at him.

“Fine,” he volleyed back.

I turned back to my vanity mirror and resumed applying my makeup. I couldn’t see Sam in the mirror, but I didn’t need to—I knew he was shuffling his feet and just generally pouting. Why did the two of us act like children sometimes? Figuring it was probably my turn to smooth things over (we tried to alternate back and forth, but frankly, I had lost track as to whose turn it was) I put the blush brush down and asked, diplomatically, “So, what exciting plans do you have for tonight, Sam?”

He stopped pouting long enough to tell me, “As a matter of fact, I’m hosting a study session.”

“Cute, you wise ass,” I chuckled, glad that we had averted yet another major blow-up.

“No, I’m serious. Beeks finally let me in to see Allie, and I sorta promised her I’d help her study for the exam.”

“That’s really nice of you, Sam,” I told him, impressed with his thoughtfulness.

He grinned. “Yeah, it’s...it’s weird talking to her again, with her in your body and everything. But it’s nice, too. It’s healing a lot of wounds for me. I feel...”

“Closure?” I finished for him.

A scoff. “Yeah. Like everything’s coming full circle.” At that point, a soft beeping came from his handlink. Glancing at it, he sighed, “Aw, geez, it’s getting late. I’ve got to get going. You should be too, huh?”

I looked over at the little clock on Allie’s desk and noticed it was already 6:30. “Yeah I guess so. I have to meet Sam—you—SAM in about 30 minutes.”

“Well, I’ll let you get to it. And if you think you’ve got everything under control, I’ll check back with you tomorrow, okay?”

“Unless I leap by then,” I said, feverishly hoping it to be true.

“God willing and the creek don’t rise. Take care of yourself, Al.”

“You too, kid. And don’t do anything *I* wouldn’t do...”

He laughed, “But if you do, take pictures. I’ll remember that.” One pushed button later, the IC door opened, and he was gone.

After Sam had vanished back to the future, I finished getting ready. I was browsing through Allie’s clothes closet for something nice to wear when my attention was drawn to the other one, containing Josie’s forbidden wardrobe. What the hell—she OWED me! I pulled open the double doors, and my eyes fell immediately upon the outfit I wanted--a vibrant, multi-color paisley print mini-dress. Heck, it looked like something *I* woulda made a suit out of in my previous life as a man. Since it was a sundress, with tiny spaghetti straps, I skipped the bra, and while I was at it, I passed on the nylons, too. As I slipped the dress on I realized Josie was right—Allie WAS a bit hippy. The dress clung to her curves in all the right places, and showed off her young body to maximum effect; the crepe-y skirt flowed around her thighs, and gave her just the right amount of girlish innocence.

I scrambled through Allie’s closet, and found some dressy sandals that were just what the doctor ordered. I then tore through Allie’s hair accessories until found a headband that matched some of the colors in the dress. Catching my reflection in the mirror, I noticed something was missing—I dug out her makeup case and added a light coat of strawberry-flavored lip-gloss to my puckered lips.

I stood back, and admired the view. In a word, Allie was beautiful. I only hoped Sam would feel the same way. Regardless of what MY Sam said, I still felt I was there to get Allie and his younger self together. And tonight, I was going to prove my theory.

Perhaps I should have been freaked out by my behavior, or, at the very least, concerned about it. I mean, I was setting out to seduce my best friend—my best MALE friend. But yet...I can’t explain it. I was neither surprised nor disgusted by what I was about to do. Curious, maybe. Excited, definitely. Plus the fact it felt so right. Maybe that’s what drove me more than anything else.

This just felt like the right thing to do.

Without analyzing further, I grabbed my book bag, and was on my way.

~xxxXxxx~

My entrance at the graduate study hall caused quite a buzz as every guy in the place turned to look me over. Well, all except the one I WANTED to. I spotted my quarry towards the back of the room—he had chosen a quiet, private little corner for us. I took a deep breath, and began the long walk, my footfalls soundless on the antique Oriental rug.

When I was a couple of feet away, he glanced up and noticed me for the first time. I’ve never seen that look on Sam’s face before. His eyes got as big as saucers and his jaw literally hit the floor. He quickly tried to regroup, but it was obvious he was having a difficult time of it. He finally gave up and simply gasped, “My God, Allie. You look beautiful tonight.”

Inwardly I smiled in satisfaction. This was going to be SO easy! “Okay, Teach—I’m here for my study session,” I proclaimed, pretending I didn’t see his little episode.

“So I can see.”

I leaned over and gave him a quick, tiny kiss on the lips. At his look of puzzlement, I giggled, “Strawberry lip gloss.”

He smiled, “My favorite.”

I licked my lower lip, my tongue sliding sensuously along it and purred, “Mmmm, mine too.”

Damn, he was so cute at that moment! I almost laughed out loud as he squirmed in his seat, attempting to squelch the hunger I saw flash across in his expressive eyes. At first, he tried to cross his legs to hide his arousal, but gave a quick yelp in pain. No doubt about it—he had a major Woodrow happening there. Determined not to give away his secret, he cleared his throat, and tucked himself firmly under the table. Gesturing to the other chair, he stammered, “Um...have a...have a seat, Allie, and we can begin.”

I wonder if he even noticed his voice was an octave higher than usual.

“A gentleman holds the chair out for a lady,” I lectured, having WAY too much fun tormenting him. _You know, I have the feeling that if I HAD been born a girl, I would’ve been a serious ball-buster._

The momentary flash of panic that suggestion brought couldn’t be denied, but I’ll give the boy credit. He stood up—telltale embarrassing jean-clad bulge and all—and helped me into my old Victorian chair before he took his once more across the small mahogany table.

_Oh, Bingo—you are one evil SOB. This study session might be fun after all._

Sam made a big deal of opening all his books and note pads, using standard delaying tactics until he could get the daisy to wilt, so to speak. I thought about teasing him further but figured I had been mean enough for the time being. So I sat there like a good girl (boy? whatever.) and waited it out until he was calm and collected again.

Finally he turned to me and smiled. “All right, we’ll start with an difficult one. What is the difference between a reflecting telescope and a refracting telescope?”

I leaned back into the comfy chair, losing myself in its soft cushions. _Man, these graduate students know how to live_. “Oh, please!” I scoffed. “THAT’S the difficult one?”

“Allie...” One word, but it was filled with warning.

I gave a big sigh then recited, “A reflecting telescope uses mirrors to form the primary images; a refracting telescope uses lenses. C’mon, test me!”

“Okay, little Miss-Know-It-All. What happens when a star becomes a supernova?”

“Well, I GUESS that’s more like it,” I replied, snidely.

He started to close his book and huffed, “You know, Allie, you’re the one who said you needed extra help for this exam. If you’re not going to take this seriously…”

I reached across the table, and ran my hand over his, giving him a small, apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, Sam. You ARE going through all this for me.” I took a deep breath, “All right, helium continues to burn to carbon in the core of the helium star, and the mass of the carbon core will grow. Eventually the carbon will be explosively ignited and the star will explode as a supernova.”

“That’s good,” he praised, clearly impressed. “Now, what is the greatest range of E.T.?”

“E.T.? Extraterrestrials?”

“Allie…stop being cute.”

Batting my eyelashes, I cooed, “But I can’t help it.”

He gave a little shake of his head. “Don’t I know it. Try Equation of Time?”

“I KNOW that! Sheesh, no sense of humor. It ranges from a positive of 16 minutes to the greatest negative of about minus 14 minutes. Anything else?”

He narrowed his eyes and glared at me…I knew that look. It was the one he always gave me, Al Calavicci, when he thought I was putting him on. “Define gravitational interlock.”

“Aww geez, Sam, if the exam is going to be this easy, just give me an ‘A’ now.”

“Allie, you didn’t answer my question...”

I got out of my seat and stood up straight as a board, with my hands behind my back, just like the nuns had taught us. “Gravitational interlock is the phenomena that occurs when one body controls the orbit or rotation of another by gravitational pull.” I gave him a sly grin, “Kinda sounds like us, huh, Teach?”

I’ve seen Sam turn red before but NEVER like that!

And so the battle of wills began. We went back and forth for over an hour, the questions getting tougher and tougher. I could see Sam was getting frustrated. Since I knew everything, what the hell did I need a study session for? Exactly! That was MY point! It was a Saturday night, I was here with my best friend—what WERE we doing studying? Well, I could put a stop to it, for good.

He had started in on physics questions a few minutes earlier, and I was both shocked and delighted that my brain didn’t have to strain for the answers. But after all that time of him picking my gray matter, I had had it. With his next question—an easy one that he asked to throw me off balance—I found the opening I had been waiting for: “Okay, Allie. Give me Newton’s Three Laws of Motion.”

_Oh, I’ll give ‘em to him all right._ I leaned forward and flashed him a provocative smirk, “The first law states that an object at rest tends to stay at rest.” I gracefully stood up, “And an object in motion tends to stay in motion, in the same direction and speed.” I took a couple of steps, until I was right in front of Sam’s chair; my smirk got bigger, and I knew an evil twinkle was in my eye. “The second law states that F equals M times A. F stands for Force. M is for Mass. And A is for acceleration.”

As Sam watched me in stunned silence, I slowly, sensually straddled his legs and sat down in his lap. I stared deeply into those beautiful hazel eyes and whispered, seductively, “The third law states that for every action, there’s an equal and opposite reaction.” And to put that theory to the test, I leaned forward and kissed him; with little prompting, he returned the kiss with the same passion and intensity as it was applied.

“Mmmmm...looks like Newton was right,” I hummed, as I wrapped my arms around his neck and wiggled my behind until I was comfortable. “Now, Teach—wanna test the theory of perpetual motion?”

His voice must’ve gone up three octaves as he wheezed, “Oh, boy,” and I clamped my mouth on his once more. I pried his lips open with my tongue, delighting to the helpless whimpers vibrating in his throat. Strong, warm hands skimmed down my back, finally finding a home cupping my bottom, driving me onward with my assault.

Guess we must’ve gotten so carried away we forgot we were in a public place—until we heard an annoyed throat clearing above us. We both looked up to see a very dignified, very stern...very displeased gentleman glowering at us. Sam jumped in surprise and almost knocked me onto the floor, as he stammered, “Ahhh...Doctor Andrews...”

“Doctor Beckett,” he responded, curtly.

I tried to defuse the uneasy situation, “Um, we were discussing Newton...”

The old coot simply glared at me and suggested, sarcastically, “Well, young lady, maybe you and Doctor Beckett can ‘discuss’ Newton somewhere else?”

“Yes, yes, sir. Sorry sir,” Sam stuttered.

I ran my fingers through his hair, and purred, “Your place or mine, DOCTOR Beckett?”

Hot damn, I thought he was red BEFORE!

~xxxXxxx~

**SAM:**

“What is a black hole?”

“The leftover core of a super massive star after it supernovas?”

“Good. Good. This one’s a bit harder. What is Kepler’s First Law of Planetary Motion?”

Al’s forehead crinkled for a moment as Allie collected her thoughts. “Is that the one about planets orbiting the sun in ellipses, with a sun at one focus?”

I smiled encouragingly. “That’s the one. Okay. Here’s a good one. How long is a light year?”

She pounced all over it. “Oh no, Tom—you can’t trick me with THAT one! A light year is a measure of distance, NOT time!”

“Good girl. Professors LOVE to throw that one in because everyone falls for it. All right, this is a toughie...what is the Doppler Effect?”

“Ooh, that one IS a toughie.”

“C’mon, Allie, I know you know this one.”

Again the furrowed brow. It made Al look young and faintly vulnerable. I wasn’t used to seeing Al that way. “Ahhh, a change in wavelength that results when a source of waves and an observer are moving relative to each other,” she finally managed to get out.

“That’s the technical definition. Can you give me an example?”

She thought for a moment, and almost jumped in her seat. “OH! What about the way a train whistle sounds different the closer it gets to you?”

I clasped her hand tightly. “BINGO! Allie, I’m really impressed. Got one more for you. Up to it?”

“Sure. Sock it to me!”

“Is there life on other planets?”

I wish I had had a camera to capture the sweet, puzzled look on Al’s face. “Was that in the book?”

“No. I was just wondering what you thought, that’s all.”

“What do YOU think?”

“Uh-uh...I asked you first.”

She gave a sigh. “If you’re talking little green men from Mars, like in the movies, then no. But I can’t believe we’re alone in the universe. With all the hundreds of stars and thousands upon thousands of planets out there? It’s rather arrogant to think ours is the only planet that spawned life. Now, do I get to hear YOUR opinion?”

“I couldn’t agree with you more. It might not be life as we know it, but I’d like to think there’s someone or something out there.” I gave her a big smile and closed her textbook. “Well, kiddo, I don’t think you’re gonna get any smarter.”

Al’s eyes sparkled in a way I hadn’t seen in a very long time. “You think I’m ready?” Allie squealed excitedly.

“Ready as you’ll ever be. I know you’ll be fine.”

“Thanks for having faith in me, Tom. I...I couldn’t have done this without you.”

“Awww, honey—it was my pleasure. I’m glad I could help.” I got up to leave, but she grabbed my hand.

“Um, Tom? I...I hate to ask, but...but could you help me a little more, please?”

“Well, I could come back tomorrow, but I think you’re pretty set here.”

“No...not that kind of help.” She gave me a sheepish grin, “I was just wondering. With all your gadgets and technology, can you get a message to Sam for me?”

It wasn’t what I was expecting her to say. “Uhhh, we can try,” I said, haltingly.

“Tell him that I’m sorry I missed the study session, and I really, really appreciate everything he’s done for me. And...that he’s the best friend I’ve ever had.”

I know the blood rushed to my cheeks. “Well, I’m sure he already knows that, sweetheart, but I’ll do my best.”

She suddenly stood up, and threw her arms around me, and gave me a huge bear hug. “Thank you so much, Doctor Miller,” and the tiniest, shyest kiss blessed my cheek. “You’re a very special man.”

I hated myself. I hated the lies I was telling her. She was so trusting, so guileless, and I didn’t even have the courage to reveal myself to her. Some friend, indeed! I gently broke away from her and smiled what I hoped was my most sincere smile. “Thanks, sweetie. You’re pretty special yourself.” And with that, I turned to leave the room.

“By the way...I think you’ve gotten even cuter, Sam.”

The use of my name stopped me in mid-step; I whipped my head around so fast I almost got whiplash. She was now sitting on the examination table, and the face beamed at me with one of Al’s best shit-eating grins. “Wha...?” I didn’t even trust my voice to finish the sentence.

“Give me a break,” she snorted. “Lying was NEVER your forte, Sam. And did you really think that I could forget those beautiful hazel eyes of yours?”

“Allie...” I should’ve known better than to try to fool her; she could always see right through you. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I understand the need for secrecy. And something tells me you broke quite a few rules to be here with me tonight.”

“Yeah, some.” Heck, I make ‘em, I can break ‘em. That’s what being the boss means. I stepped closer to the table, “But you’re worth it.”

She laughed, and her slight titter in Al’s gruff voice was something I could NOT get used to. “Well, I don’t know why you brought me here—and I’m pretty sure I don’t WANT to know—but I hope I helped you in whatever you’re doing.”

“You did, Allie. You helped a lot.”

I had reached the bed; she looked at me with Al’s hypnotic eyes. I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her close. I swear I could almost smell the vanilla-scented shampoo she used to use, and her perfume, Savannah Gardens. “It’s been great seeing you again, after all these years.”

“You can see ME?” she squealed in surprise.

“Well, actually, no. It’s...ahh...it’s a long story,” I stammered.

“And you don’t have time to tell it, right?”

“Not tonight, anyway. I have an appointment I have to keep. But everything’s gonna be all right, Allie. I promise.”

She clasped my hand tightly in hers and smiled. “No matter what, I trust you, Sam. You’ve never let me down.”

And I’m not going to start now. I swore to myself.

~xxxXxxx~

**AL:**

We stumbled into Sam’s room, a tangle of arms and legs and lips, too busy to even bother turning on the lights; the only illumination came from the street lamps outside. Within seconds, I had unbuttoned his shirt and was attempting to push it off his broad shoulders. He let go of me long enough so I could achieve my goal, then quickly enfolded me back in his grasp. I ran my hands down his strong back, and up into his hair. He got the same idea, and soon his fingers were stroking through my long hair, managing to remove my hair-ribbon.

“Hold onto that,” I whispered, playfully. “You can tie me up with it later.”

“ALLIE!” came the shocked response.

I grabbed it from his and tossed it over my shoulder. That done, I reached out and gripped the waistband of his jeans. “You’ve still got too many clothes on.”

“Well, what about you?” he protested, even as he was unbuttoning his Levi’s.

“Later. Right now, I wanna see you. ALL of you.” His jeans fell around his feet, and he stood in front of me, his striped boxers tenting quite impressively. “Mmmm—nice!” (I LOVED making him blush like that!) I advanced upon him, wrapped my hands around his neck and pulled him in for another kiss.

Oh, man, could this boy kiss! Shoulda known a man as passionate about his work would be as passionate in other aspects of his life. It was as if he were trying to possess me with his kisses, take control of me with his charms. And damn, if he wasn’t doing just that!

I finally had to pull my lips away, or I was in danger of passing out. I kissed down his cheek, and ran my tongue down his throat, the resulting purr music to me. I aimed for his ear, and nibbled on the lobe, murmuring, “Unzip my dress.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. His right hand found the little tab, and the sound of the ‘zzzzzzzzzzz’ echoed throughout the room. When he reached the end, I stepped back from him. He was watching me, the expectation written all over his face; instead, I decided to have a bit more fun with him. After all, I was supposed to be a girl. I had to pretend to be one. I crossed my arms, protectively over my chest, holding the dress in place, and asked, “Do you have any lights in here?”

“Uhh, ahh, yeah…” and he reached over to the wall switch; soon the room was bathed with that horrible florescent light all institutions have.

“Uh-uh, Sam. Nothing more...romantic?”

He shut off the offending light and scrambled over to his nightstand, and turned on the bedside lamp. “Better?” he asked, concerned.

“Much. Now, how about some music?”

“Romantic, right?” he smiled, knowingly; I just nodded. The boy learned fast. He went over to his stereo and messed around with the dials until he found an easy listening station. He turned back to me; I was waiting for this exact second to let the dress fall to my feet. “Is this okay-yay-yay-yay...?”

I stood before him, naked as the day I was born, well, ALLIE was born, save for a tiny pair of snow-white bikini panties. I knew what he saw—the same mouth-watering vision that had greeted me in the mirror the night I had leaped in. I took a couple of quick, deep breaths, causing my shapely breasts to heave nicely. Running my fingers teasingly across my lower lip, I asked, nervously (and totally unnecessarily), “Will I do?”

The words caught in his throat; I could hear his hesitation. Tears filled his eyes, as he finally sighed, “Oh, Allie...you are so beautiful.”

_Dammit, Sammy, how could you think I wasn’t here to give you this?_

I started towards him, seemingly floating like in a dream; he stayed still, watching me, watching every move I made. When I got to within an arm’s length, I timidly reached out, and caressed his slightly hairy chest. I looked up into those gorgeous eyes, the ones that reach into your soul and rip it right from your chest and whispered, “You’re beautiful too, Sam.” And with that, I fell forward into his arms, and we tumbled onto the bed.

I could feel Sam’s erection poking me in the stomach, but I wanted it poking me somewhere else. That realization stunned me momentarily, a situation Sam took full advantage of to kiss the breath from my lungs. He may have been a late bloomer, but the boy was a fast learner. His kissing skills had already improved a hundredfold from my initial leap in, and I couldn’t help but envy Allie. She was in for a big surprise when she got back!

With one final caress of his tongue against mine, he rolled halfway off me and reached out towards the nightstand. At first I thought he was gonna shut off the light, but then I saw him fumbling with the little drawer in his nightstand. I knew what THAT meant. “Sammy—were you ever a Boy Scout by any chance?” I joked.

“Um, Eagle Scout, actually,” he answered me in all seriousness. “How did you know?”

I pointed to the box of condoms he now had in his hand. “Well, their motto is ‘Always be prepared’. Looks like you passed with flying colors.”

Sam turned beet red and stammered, “Well...I guess...I mean...I was hoping we’d need them someday.”

I ran my hand down along his arm, and brushed my fingers along those holding the box. “It appears that ‘someday’ has arrived,” I whispered, seductively, and pulled him back fully on top of me. His hand unclenched, spilling the open box of rubbers all over the bed, but we hardly cared.

My mouth easily found his once more, my hungry lips pressing against his. I ran my hands over his strong young body, down over his hips, and across his ass, massaging those shapely cheeks. He moaned into my mouth as he bucked against me, obviously enjoying what my hands were doing. With one final squeeze, I decided to move on. I reached for him, my fingers skimming over the silky head of his hard cock, when it happened.

He shot off like a fucking firecracker on the 4th of July.

“OhLordOhGodOhboy,” he chanted in embarrassed agony even as the spurts continued until he was finally dry. At that point, he buried his head in my shoulder, his body still trembling from his orgasm, and refusing to look at me. “Oh, Allie, I’m so SO sorry. I’m...” his voice cracked then and he turned away from me, attempting to jump off the bed.

Shit on a shingle! That’s all that we needed—for history to repeat itself. Well, I had worked far too hard to erase that horrible memory from Sam’s databank, and I was NOT about to let it happen again. I put my hand on his shoulder, stopping him in mid-flight. “Sammy, honey, listen to me. It’s okay. Really. It happens. We have all night. Hell, we have all weekend.”

“But I ruined everything,” he moaned, dejectedly.

“Sam, we’re okay here,” I insisted. “Everything’s okay.”

“But look at you,” he whined.

I really didn’t have to look down—I could feel his stickiness on my skin. And I’ve gotta say, it was pretty gross. So, I leaned over the side of the bed and retrieved the first article of clothing I could get my hands on—the dress I had worn—and started to wipe it up. “See, Sam,” I continued to reassure him, “no problem. It cleans easily enough.”

“But, Allie...your dress,” he gasped, clearly shocked.

“It’s Josie’s,” I smirked, evilly.

He shook his head ruefully, “She’s gonna kill you.”

“She has to find me first.” Clean up job done, I threw the dress back on the floor and sat up on the bed, my back against the headboard. “Now, get back over here, will ya’?”

After a moment’s hesitation, he inched forward until he was leaning against me, his head on my shoulder. “Now, Sammy—don’t go beating yourself up over this,” I began. “It happens. And it’s really no big deal. It’s not the end of the world. We were both so...excited...and wanted it so much that it got a little overwhelming, that’s all. You didn’t do anything wrong, and you certainly don’t have anything to apologize for. Okay?” I gave him a big smile, “In fact, I feel sort of flattered that I could do that to you.”

The soothing tone of my voice, and the reassuring words—coupled with the gentle circular stroking of my hands along his back and shoulders, slowly started to calm him down. He finally looked me in the eye, and my heart broke at the uncertainty that resided in his. “Are you sure, Allie?”

I smiled at him, trying to further comfort him. “Yeah, I’m sure. I’m just happy to be here with you.” _If only someone had been able to do this for the poor boy the FIRST time it happened._

That earned me a shy smile in return. “Thank you, Allie. And I’ll make it up to you.”

“Oh, you can bet that you will,” I leered at him.

Don’t know how my leer looked on Allie’s face, but it must’ve shocked the hell out of Sam, if HIS expression was anything to go by. “Well, if you’re not opposed...there IS something we can do until I’m ready to...you know...” He blushed so sweetly.

“What did you have in mind?”

Without answering, I was suddenly swept up in a passionate soul-probing kiss, his hands roaming all over my body. Gone were the nervous tremors—these were confident, sure hands, softly caressing every inch of my flesh.

His lips left mine, leaving me gasping for breath, and as he trailed a series of wet kisses down my chin and neck, between my breasts and down Allie’s flat tummy, his intentions became crystal clear to me. _OHMIGOD! I can’t believe this is HAPPENING!_ He looked up at me, his beautiful hazel eyes shimmering in the dim lighting of the room. His smile was gentle, easy, and shy. “If you don’t like this, tell me, and I’ll stop.”

Was he crazy? He had set my body on fire and NOW he asked if I wanted to stop? I didn’t bother to answer him; instead, I gently, but resolutely pushed his head downward, the tide of pleasure sweeping over me overruling any common sense that might have remained.

He leaned forward to kiss my mound lightly, and I almost passed out. My mind simply couldn’t process what was going to happen. My best friend was actually going to go down on me! And I couldn’t wait.

His breath was hot on my skin, but not as hot as his tongue, which started swirling little patterns on my sensitive flesh. Using his fingers, he gently opened me up; I could feel the tip of his tongue slowly going from one end of the moist slit to the other and back again. His touch was delicate and feather-light— it almost tickled, but it felt so good, too. And it felt even better when his nimble tongue flicked across my clit.

_Holy SHIT! So THAT’S what all the hubbub is about!_

My hips bucked involuntarily, and I must’ve let out some groan of pleasured distress because Sam pulled away and looked up at me. “Are you all right, Allie?” he asked, concerned.

“I will be once you do that again!” I growled.

He gave me a quick smile before he lowered his head and started licking earnestly, lovingly, enjoying the way I cried out every time his tongue stroked over the sensitive little button. He held me tightly as he used his lips to work me over. I started squirming and twisting, almost bouncing across the bed.

I had to struggle to keep my legs apart. My eyes fluttered rapidly as my passion intensified. I finally lost the battle as my orgasm peaked. I flopped back on the bed, breathless and sated. I thought that was the end...

I thought wrong.

His tongue slowed for a moment while I rode out the aftershocks, then started slithering around once more. I felt it dip into my opening, lapping at my juices, before gliding back up towards that damnable little joy buzzer. My whole body started to quake as the pleasurable throbbing began to ripple within me all over again. What was happening to me? What was Sam doing to me? Oh God, I could feel the fires building throughout my being, climbing higher and higher. Instinctively, I wrapped my legs around his neck and pushed myself harder against his mouth. Slamming my head back into the pillows, I arched my back into a rigid arc, my hands gripping the sheets below me for dear life.

My legs trembled on his shoulders as his loving attentions provoked an endless torrent of nerve-ending feelings within me. My moans became wails, then shrieks as I once again climaxed, explosively. The second of these mind-bending orgasms left me weak and vibrating all over. I felt him tenderly kiss the inside of my right thigh before he pulled back and climbed on top of me.

“You okay, Allie?” he asked, concerned.

I started to laugh. I couldn’t help it. I had never felt so fucking alive in my life. Jesus, no WONDER my women loved it so much when I went downtown on them!

My laughter, however, did little to alleviate his anxiety. “Allie...?” he asked again, more urgently.

“I feel fine, Sammy,” I sighed, in what was perhaps the understatement of the century. Still coming down from the orgasmic high, I wondered aloud, “Where’d you learn how to do that?”

He blushed so sweetly. “Um, medical textbooks. I knew it in theory, but I didn’t know...I mean...it’s quite impressive in practice.”

“I KNEW there was a reason I started dating a doctor,” I teased, as I wrapped my hands around his neck and pulled him down for a long, lingering kiss. I could taste myself on his lips, and I swear it was almost enough to cause me to come again. Goddamn, I could really get used to this multi-orgasm stuff! (Certainly made up for all those stupid bras and nylons and things!)

And speaking of multi-orgasms, Sam was hard once more, his hot erection burning into my stomach. Without wanting a repeat of his earlier misfire, I gently caressed the impressive hard-on and sighed in my most breathless Marilyn Monroe impersonation, “Is this for me, Sammy?”

“Oh...oh boy,” he stammered.

Batting my eyes, I cooed, “Make love to me, baby.”

~xxxXxxx~

**SAM:**

I watched with a combination of fascination and horror as my younger self clumsily rolled a condom over his erection then proceeded to make love to my best friend—and his best girl. I tried to yell out my protestations and indignation, but the words stuck in my throat as I observed the young couple in bed. So tender, so gentle, their cries of passion and sighs of delight filled the room. I watched their glistening bodies pleasure each other, knowing intimate details—fine-tuned, as if they had been lovers for years.

It was so beautiful and so heart-wrenching that I cried. I cried for the love that had been lost for so many years over a silly misunderstanding. I cried for the dreams and hopes of those two people, who knew nothing of their futures, and didn’t have a care in the world.

I cried for that shy pretty girl and the new life I had given her. I cried for that serious young man who was learning there were more precious things in this life than he ever knew—things like fun, and happiness, and love.

And lastly, I cried for a love aborted before its time, a love that would never get a chance to grow, a love strong and powerful that nonetheless could not defeat the obstacles thrown into its path.

I watched two young lovers filled with the joy of the universe as their poetic act crescendoed, curl in upon themselves and fall asleep, wrapped snugly in each other’s embrace...

And I cried for the loneliness in my heart that would never end.

~xxxXxxx~

As I left the IC, Bena was standing at the end of the ramp, waiting for me; I could see the concerned look on her face even from a distance. Damn Ziggy--her job is to monitor Al. I really hated it when she spied on me, too. I contemplated just pushing past our resident head-doctor and making my way back to the loneliness of my on-sight apartment but I knew that would be useless. Bena can be like a pit-bull when she wants to and she'd simply track me to the ends of the earth if she had to. At times like that it's better just to face the music and get it over with.

I watched warily as she approached me, waiting for the Freudian jargon and doctor attitude to start flowing. Instead, she surprised me by gently removing the comlink from my wrist and handing it to our equally concerned Pulse Communications tech, Tina, who was standing behind her. That done, she looped her arm in mine and said kindly, "Sam, we have to talk." And with that, she led me out of the Control Room and towards her office.

She didn’t say a word the whole time, and even once ensconced in her rooms, she remained silent. I had a seat while she puttered around, heating up some water in a hot pot and placing chamomile tea bags in the mugs she had set out. Once the tea had finished seeping, she surprised me by pulling out her bottle of ‘medicinal’ Southern Comfort and splashing some in each mug. She contemplated both cups for a moment, added a splash more to one of them—then handed it to me. I took a deep drink from it as I waited for her to collect her own mug and take her seat behind her desk. Not able to hold it in for one more second, I blurted out, “Al slept with him—ME—you know.”

She took a sip from her tea and nodded, sagely, “Yes. I know.”

The way she said it brought me up short. And the realization turned my stomach. “They all know, don’t they?” I said, my voice barely a whisper.

Another nod. “I’m sorry, Sam,” she rushed to apologize. “Ziggy...when Al’s vitals went off the scale...we needed to know what was going on, if he was in any kind of distress.”

“I didn’t know what was happening. Not until I saw...was that why you were in the Control Room?”

“Yes. Ziggy was worried about you. She thought it was best that I be there for you.”

I took another sip from the extra-strong tea. Its burn felt good, and I almost wished she hadn’t bothered with the tea at all and had just handed me the bottle straight. “I just can’t believe he did it.”

“Well, if you have to be honest, Sam, you can’t say it’s a total surprise.”

“What does THAT mean?”

“Just that Al’s been working towards this the whole leap, that’s all. His insistence that he was there to get you and Allie together, that photo of you and Allie that appeared in your wallet...”

“But Jesus, Bena! I’m a guy! Al doesn’t have sex with guys!”

“Sam,” she started gently, “maybe there’s something you need to know...”

**“Dr. Beeks. I highly recommend against this course of action,”** Ziggy suddenly butted in. Ziggy NEVER monitors Bena’s sessions, due to invasion of privacy issues and ‘doctor/patient confidentiality’. If she was listening in on us now, something was seriously up.

“I understand, Ziggy. But perhaps it’s better if Dr. Beckett knows the truth.”

“What truth?” I asked anxiously.

But instead of answering me, she said, “Ziggy, please make sure we’re not disturbed.”

**“Understood, Doctor. Please take care of Father.”** Then she fell silent.

“WHAT TRUTH?” I demanded again, growing more distraught over all the secrecy.

Bena didn’t answer me right away. First she took a sip of her tea, giving herself a shot of ‘liquid courage’. Putting the mug down, she then clasped her hands on her desk, almost as if praying for guidance. I was about ready to demand for a third time just what the hell was going on when she finally pinned me with her dark knowing eyes and said, “Sam, I’m going to ask you a question—a personal question. And I know it will be difficult, but I need you to answer it honestly.”

Now I was very nervous. I’ve never seen Bena beat around the bush like this before. Usually when she wants to know something she just shoots point blank and doesn’t care what targets she hits. When I nodded dumbly, she continued, “Okay. Sam, have you ever dreamed about Al?”

Was she serious? I dream of him all the time—did when I was leaping, too. “That’s it? Yeah, of course I dream about Al.”

“Have you ever had any dreams where you and he were...together?” she asked, haltingly.

I noticed that my anxiety and hesitation had transferred nicely to my therapist. “Yeah. Sometimes we’re at a ballgame or out bowling or we’re arguing over something stupid, like we used to. Sometimes we’re here at the Project, going over blueprints or cobbling Ziggy together. Sometimes... sometimes I’m looking for him or he’s looking me but we never seem to find each other.” I heard my voice crack as I added, “I don’t like those dreams.”

She smiled sympathetically. “I can’t imagine that you do. But what I meant was...together. In bed, perhaps? Making love?”

If it hadn’t been for the fact that I had finished my tea, I would’ve spilled it in my lap. As it was, the cup slipped from my trembling fingers and crashed to the floor, shattering in a dozen pieces. In the silence that followed, I just stared at Bena, my mouth hanging down to my shoes.

How could she possibly know that?! I had never told anyone about those dreams—tried not to think about them myself for that matter. The first one had occurred when I was still leaping. At the time, I thought it was just an aberration. It was during the leap with Senator Diane McBride, and there was...well...a LOT of temptation. I kept pushing those yearnings down, down, and one night, they exploded in a very graphic, very erotic dream. But instead of the lovely Diane, I found myself in the arms of a familiar swarthy Italian.

I never told Al about it. I figured if I did, he would have found a way to kick my ass, hologram or not.

I looked up. Beeks was just watching me, studying me, waiting for an answer. I decided to go on the defensive instead. Rolling my eyes heavenwards, I groaned, “Oh God, Bena—not that repressed homosexual crap you dumped on Al when *I * first leaped into a woman?”

“No. I was way off the mark that time, but Al put me straight. I...I think it’ll help explain what you’re going through as well, though. Now...you were saying...”

“Sorry, Bena—I don’t know what you’re talking about. I haven’t had any dreams like that,” I bluffed, but who was I kidding? If she couldn’t read my face or my body language, then I was seriously overpaying her.

“Sam, it’s okay,” she rushed to assure me.

“How can it be okay?” I retorted. “I just admitted to having sexual dreams about my best friend. My best MALE friend! And you say it’s okay?”

“Sam, listen to me. Those weren’t dreams. They were bleed-thrus from another timeline. The ORIGINAL timeline.”

I swallowed hard and asked, “Bena, what are you talking about?” Something was telling me I wasn’t going to like the answer.

Taking a steadying breath, she announced, “You and Admiral Calavicci were lovers in the original timeline.”

I felt as if I had received a roundhouse punch to the gut. “No. That’s not possible,” I said, my voice hardly registering as a whisper.

“It is possible, Sam...and it’s the truth. Al came to me and told me about it during the Samantha Stormer leap. When he told me, you could have knocked me over with a feather.”

“And you believed him?”

“I had no reason not to, Sam.”

“Even though you don’t remember that timeline.”

“No, you’re right. I don’t. Likewise, I don’t remember the line you keep talking about, with this Donna person.”

“She was here when the leap started, Bena. Now she’s gone. And I seem to be the only one to notice that.”

**“Not the only one, Father,”** Ziggy was quick to cut in.

“I stand corrected,” Bena smiled.

**“If I may postulate, Dr. Beckett, it appears that when you leaped into Donna Elisee’s life, you changed the direction of the time stream. Since it affected everyone in the Project, it became the timeline everyone knew. Whatever changes Admiral Calavicci has made in your life in 1973 have, in effect, changed the direction of the time stream again.”**

“So then why do I still remember the timeline with Donna?” I asked, cautiously.

**“I can’t answer that, Father. But if I had to venture a guess...”**

“*Guess*, Ziggy?” Bena teased.

**“As I was saying before I was so RUDELY interrupted, I’d say it’s because this timeline is still so new to you. The memories will recede as new ones take their places.”**

“It makes sense, Sam.”

“Which just leaves us with the original timeline.”

“Something tells me that one will never go away. You two shared something too strong to just have it disappear.”

“And you think the dreams are a way to keep those memories alive?”

She nodded. “You still love him, and deep down, you still want him. That’s what the dreams are telling you. Whatever you feel about the admiral is okay, Sam. There is nothing wrong with loving him.”

“There is while he’s still lost in time.”

“You’ll get him home, Sam. We know you will.”

“Then what? I mean, how can I tell him. . .?”

“Well, he may already know.”

“You think he remembers about us?”

“No, I doubt he remembers ANY timeline, but I think the feelings, the knowledge is still buried there. Perhaps he dreams, like you, or maybe this leap is the first time he’s encountered these feelings for you and has acknowledged them. He might not even know why he’s acting out on them...only that it feels like the right thing to do.”

“What can we do?”

“There’s not much you CAN do. You can’t tell him anything he doesn’t remember.”

“That’s not what I mean. What can we do to stop him, before he changes anything else?”

“I think we’re a little late for that.” I let out a loud yawn, which caused Bena to laugh. “Look, Sam, there’s nothing more we can do tonight anyway. Al’s sleeping, and I think you should be as well. We can always pick this up tomorrow morning.”

“Yeah, if the Project’s still HERE tomorrow morning.”

“That’s what I like about you, Dr. Beckett—you’re such an optimist.” She stood up and led me over to the office door. As she opened it, she turned to me and smiled, “Don’t worry, Sam. I’m sure everything will turn out fine in the end. It usually does.”

I leaned over and gave her a big hug. “I sure do hope you’re right, Bena. And thanks for the tea.”

“Anytime, my friend,” she replied, then added with a smirk, “pleasant dreams now.”

_If they’re about Al, they will be._

~xxxXxxx~

**Sunday**   
**May 17, 1973**   
**AL:**

“Hey Sleeping Beauty, rise and shine.”

“Ughnngh,” or something like that slipped past my lips.

A full-bodied laugh and a kiss on the cheek greeted that little bon mot. “Allie...get up, honey. I’ve got breakfast.”

Goddamn, how can anyone be so chipper at—I cracked my eye open and saw the clock read 8:03. Oh man, after last night, he was up before noon? I quickly shut my eye again and groaned.

When I still didn’t make a move, something was waved under my nose. Coffee. Hot coffee. Hot, good-smelling coffee. I open my eyes to find Sam, dressed, sitting on the edge of the bed, a Dunkin’ Donuts bag on his lap, and cup of coffee in his hand.

_Now THIS is the only way to wake up in the morning._ I sat up against the headboard and reached out of the cup. “Gimme here.”

Sam just grinned at me. “Not without compensation.”

“Compen...what the hell does THAT mean?”

“Well, I let you sleep in while I got dressed and went foraging for food. I think I deserve payment for that, don’t you?”

At that point, I happened to notice that he wasn’t looking me in the eye, his gaze more along the lines of chest level. I glanced down and noticed that the sheets didn’t quite reach my neck. Dammit! I’m not used to dealing with these things! Never had a problem when they were flat and hairy, but now...

Snatching up the sheet and covering myself modestly, I gave a playful growl, “Something tells me you’ve already GOTTEN your reward, Beckett.”

“Awww, you’re no fun, Allie,” he grumbled, leaning down to hand me my cup. Styrofoam. Shit! I vowed never to drink from one of those cursed cups! But, God forgive me...it smelled so good. Knowing I’d hate myself later, I eagerly grabbed the cup from Sam and took a long greedy gulp. Ahhh, pure nectar.

“Didn’t you mention something about food, too?” after another sip.

“But of course, my dear. It’s hard to have breakfast in bed without it.” He handed over the bag as he stood up and began stripping down.

Opening the bag, I grinned. It was filled with chocolate-frosted donuts. “My favorite.”

By now he was nude—gloriously nude—and was climbing into bed next to me. “Hey, I provide for my woman.”

“My own little hunter/gatherer, huh?” I teased, taking a huge bite out of one of the pastries. Not just chocolate frosted, but filled, too. Bavarian cream. Did life get any better?

“Don’t hog them all,” Sam scolded, as he snatched the bag from me and dug out a donut for himself. That accomplished, he wrapped his left arm around my shoulders and pulled me in close. Without prompting, I snuggled close to him while I continued to nibble on my treat. A smile crossed my face when I felt Sam’s morning woody pressing into my thigh...was gonna have to do something about that after breakfast.

“Hey, Allie?” my guy whispered in my ear.

“Hmmmm...?”

“Can you reach the paper?”

“What paper?” I asked, confused.

“The Times. I dropped it at the foot of the bed,” he explained.

I looked down and sure enough, there was a huge Sunday New York Times sitting there. Guess I was too...preoccupied...to notice it before then. “Yeah, I think so,” I answered as I pulled out of my cozy cocoon. “Which section do you want?”

“Sports. Wanna see how my Pacers did last night.”

“Of course,” I snickered, flipping through the sections until I found ‘Sports’. “I should have known. You never change.”

“What was that, Allie?”

Oops. Backtrack. Start again. “Ohhh...I mean, you men. You’re all the same. Sports, sports, sports,” I teased.

Suddenly I felt a hand running along my bare ass, which was sticking out of the covers as I reached down towards the foot of the bed. “Don’t be so sure of that, Allie,” he purred. “I’m thinking of something a lot more interesting than basketball right now.”

I flipped over onto my back to fire off a snappy retort. Bad move. I didn’t like that gleam that was shining in his eyes as they raked over my naked body. But then again, I DID like the gorgeous erection that was pointed my way was Sam crawled over my prone body. “I got news for you, Beckett—your mind is STILL on basketball,” I said. “A little one-on-one action, right?”

He didn’t answer me. He didn’t HAVE to—that feral grin he gave me spoke volumes. His eyes never left mine as his fingers searched through the comforter near me until they found their prize: a loose condom from the box he had spilled in the bed the night before. He ripped the envelope open viciously with his teeth; I groaned wantonly even as I was spreading my legs for him.

The fuckin’ Pacers could wait!

Unlike the gentle tender loving act of just 12 hours earlier, this was hot and fast and sweaty and urgent. I cried out ecstatically as Sam wedged the head of his cock against my pussy, right at my opening, and slammed home with one long thrust, a low sexy growl rumbling deep in his throat. From there, it just grew more frantic and out of control. Last night, we were making love. This morning, we were fucking—pure and simple. I dug my fingers into Sam’s shoulders and hung on as he plowed into me, using me for his pleasure.

I moaned lustfully as I undulated my hips to meet his every plunge until he put a stop to that by cupping my ass in his hands. He smiled down at me and began pulling me towards him with each thrust, driving himself deeper within me. I wrapped my legs around his waist and locked my feet at the base of his back to make his job easier.

Oh God, so good. So fucking good! I was quickly losing all sense of reality as my erect sensitive tits rubbed against his strong hairy chest, and my erect sensitive clit rubbed against the base of his hard cock with every movement of his hips. I was practically screaming in sheer delight as the pressure built within me, almost to the breaking point. And suddenly, I was there. I was shouting out, oblivious to the early hour and who could possibly hear me as wave after orgasmic wave raced through every fiber of my body.

I lay there trembling as he continued to piston into me, able to do little more than sigh and moan and whimper. And then, my second climax hit, more intense than the first. I threw my head back on the pillow, eyes closed, and sobbed out Sam’s name, sure I’d die from all the pleasure he was giving me.

As I cracked open my eyes a moment later, I saw the change in Sam’s soft hazel orbs. They grew darker and more focused in that split second right before he closed them and came with a loud gasped, “ALLIE!” I felt every muscle within him tense then relax as his release flowed from him, and he collapsed on my still shaking body. He rained a shower of kisses along my cheeks and nose and lips as we both came down, interspersed with an occasionally whispered, “I love you, Allie.”

We must’ve fallen asleep in that position because the next thing I knew, Sam was carefully withdrawing from me and sliding off the bed, and the room looked brighter than it had earlier. I looked over at the clock and saw it was nearly 9:30.

I was just sitting up on the bed when Sam returned from the bathroom, presumably after disposing of the used condom. (Sam was lucky—from what I could tell, he shared a joint bathroom with just his next-door neighbors. Being a Grad student had its benefits.) He walked so casually, confident in his naked glory, his cock swinging freely between his long legs. I don’t think I ever saw Sam so self-assured about his body, and I found myself on the verge of drooling just watching him, a powerful tingle beginning between my thighs.

_SHIT! Sam had just fucked me brainless less than an hour ago and I’m ready to go again? Man, these women have it made!_ I was amused to see a slight blush hit my friend’s cheeks, as if he could guess what I was thinking. Then again, he probably could. I wouldn’t be surprised to find it was written all over my face.

Deciding I needed to put some distance between me and the walking aphrodisiac I stood up and stated, “I’m going to take a shower, if that’s okay with you.”

He leaned down and kissed me lovingly on the lips. “You do that, Allie. I’m going to check on my Pacers.”

I didn’t know whether to feel happy or disappointed that he didn’t ask to join me. “Well, just save the crossword puzzle for me,” I called over my shoulder as I made my way to the bathroom.

I had just finished washing Allie’s hair when he shower curtain drew back to reveal a stark naked Sam. “They won,” he announced as he pushed his way into the tiny stall.

“SAM!” I pretended to be outraged and made an attempt at modesty by covering as much as I could with my tiny washcloth.

“If you didn't want company, you should have locked the doors,” he replied, with a smile. “You’re just lucky it was me and not my neighbors, Rob or David.”

“Oh, crap,” I muttered. THAT would’ve sucked!

“C’mon, I’ll wash your back,” he said, as he reached out and relieved me of my washcloth, and snatched the bar of Ivory soap from the little porcelain shelf.

Before I could think to protest further, Sam turned me around and started to wash my back, just as he said he would, although he hadn’t mentioned the interspersion of licks and kisses along the way. Up around the shoulders, taking time to gently massage them, then down my sides and past my hips. He spent an inordinate amount of time soaping up my bum, with the cloth and then his bare hands, his contented murmurs ringing in my ears.

“Sam, I think my ass is shiny enough,” I grumbled, half-heartedly.

A tiny playful smack on my right cheek brought me up short. “You’re such a spoilsport, Allie,” Sam complained, but took the hint and moved on. Droppng to his knees, he rubbed up and down my legs, even as tiny kisses landed on my lower back and upper thighs. At this rate, I’d be shriveled up like a raisin before he was done with me!

Finally I got the command to turn around. _Oh, boy! If he’d been that distracted with my backside, what the hell is he going to do with all the playthings in the front?_ There was nothing I could do but lean back against the tiled wall and enjoy the ride.

Starting at my feet, he carefully and lovingly made his way up my legs. I moaned and thrust myself towards him, giving him not only better access but permission as well. He surprised me by not taking me up on my invitation—instead he gave me a baby kiss right below my belly button, and continued upwards.

I coulda killed him!

Gentle strong hands continued to wash my stomach, and I discovered, much to my chagrin, that Allie was apparently ticklish. Sam was a gentleman, though, and didn’t take advantage of the situation. He probably didn’t notice anyway, because my chest was next on his reconnaissance map. And I thought he spent a lot of time on my ass! He seemed endlessly fascinated with getting them all sudsy then rinsing them only to start again.

He eventually decided it was time to move on, and he tenderly soaped up my shoulders, arms, and neck, taking care to wash everything squeaky clean. That accomplished, he leaned in and kissed me fully on the mouth, his tongue slipping easily and freely between my lips. He crushed me to him as his mouth devoured mine, and I couldn’t help but feel something long and hard digging into my thigh.

Oxygen became a major problem for us both and we were finally forced to draw apart. Only then did I notice he had that same gleam in his eye, that devilish, evil, ‘I’m going to fuck you bowlegged, my dear’ twinkle. Now that I knew what it meant, I was both turned on and apprehensive. Yeah, I was really horny after that shower, but I didn’t know if I could survive another encounter like we had had this morning. I took a step backwards, only to bump into the wall of the stall. A predatory grin now joined the twinkle...

Oh, shit! I was in serious trouble!

He grabbed my hand and pulled me from the shower. Stopping only long enough to snag the condom that was sitting on the edge of the sink (and since it hadn’t been there when I started my shower, Sam must’ve brought it in with him) he proclaimed, “Last one in bed has to sleep in the wet spot.”

It was a moot point as we never made it to the bed—he nailed me on the floor outside the bathroom...

And in the chair...

And across the desk...

Twice.

He was insatiable, and a quick study. By the time he dragged me back into the shower, I could barely stand up, my rubbery legs straining to support my weight as Sam tenderly washed me down once more. You know, I never thought that I’d say this, but perhaps there WAS such a thing as too much sex...I had the feeling Sam could kill me with pleasure.

As I was braced against the wall, trying to recover from the last couple of hours, Sam shut off the water and stepped out of the shower. He quickly wiped himself off, then grabbed another towel, which he carefully wrapped around me. He helped me out of the shower, then scooped me up in his arms—just like a scene straight out of ‘Gone with the Wind’—and carried me to the bed.

Gently, so gently, he placed me down and gazed at me with those wide hazel eyes. “God, I love you so much, Allie,” he whispered reverently, and for a moment, I wished he was talking to me, Al Calavicci.

“I love you too, Sam. Now, can we get some sleep?”

“Tired already? Gee, it’s only...2:00 in the afternoon.”

“FOUR HOURS?” Man, and I thought *I* was a sex-fiend! We had even fucked right through lunch—and beyond!

“Wanna go for five?” he responded with a leer that put MINE to shame.

“Sam Beckett!” I reprimanded. “If you were any kind of gentleman, you’d let your lady-fair get some beauty sleep.”

He leaned down and kissed me, so sweet, so tender; his eyes sparkled as he spoke, “How could you POSSIBLY get more beautiful?”

I rolled my eyes and laughed. “That was really corny, Sam.”

“Well, I am a farmboy,” he replied with a laugh of his own, as he peeled off my towel and dropped in on the floor before crawling into the bed. Curling up beside me, he added, “But maybe you're right—a little nap will do us some good.”

“Glad you see things my way,” I said, snuggling into his arms.

“After all, we'll need our strength for later.”

My God—I had created a monster! A sexy, horny monster!

OH BOY!

~xxxXxxx~

We slept until around 4:00. I coulda slept longer, but Sam the Sex Maniac had other ideas. I awoke to his lips attached to my neck, his hands attached to my breasts, and him humping against my leg like a schnauzer in heat. _Ah, to be 19 again and have a hard-on 24/7. THOSE were indeed the days!_

“Sammmmm...?” I mewled, as his mouth zeroed in on a particularly sensitive spot of my throat.

“Oh, hi Allie,” he answered, bright and cheery and all too innocent. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Bullshit, Beckett,” I shot back, my right hand reaching down to grip his already hard cock, causing him to groan in delight. “What do you call THIS?” I asked, accusingly.

“Skippy,” he revealed with a full-dimpled smirk.

Jesus! This guy was warped! Only my Sam. “Do I want to know?”

“It was a childhood nickname.”

“Your dick had a childhood nickname?!” I exclaimed in disbelief.

“No, silly. It was MY nickname. I just filched it when the time came to christen little Sammy. And just like the peanut butter, it stuck.”

I just shook my head, coming to the conclusion that I would NEVER know everything there was to know about my brilliant and complex friend. Because make no mistake about it, while I couldn’t remember much about my life before I started leaping, I was POSITIVE we had never had this discussion before. (It’d be hard to forget ‘Skippy’.) “Samuel Beckett, you are one of a kind,” I declared, meaning every word of it.

He leaned down and kissed my lips gently. “Thanks for the compliment, sweetie. Now, where were we?”

My hand released ‘Skippy’, despite Sam’s pout and protest, and joined my left which was already resting on his luscious ass. Grabbing two handfuls of Prime-A gluteus maximus, I cooed, “Right about here, I think.”

“Oh, yeah—NOW I remember,” he mumbled, his words distorted as his lips latched onto mine once more. I felt rather than saw the movement of his right arm as it dropped away from me, then some smothered muttered curses, then he pulled his lips from mine.

“Hey, what gives?” I complained, but he wasn’t paying attention to me. Instead, he was entirely focused on the nearby nightstand.

“Where are they?” he groused, turning over books and his clock and a few other knick-knacks lying about.

“What?” I asked, impatiently.

“The...the condoms,” he replied, distractedly. By now he had knelt up on the bed and was shuffling through all the mess on top of the small table, before turning to the single drawer.

“The last I saw they were in the bed covers,” I told him, trying to be helpful. I even started canvassing said covers, looking for little foil packets.

“No, no,” he corrected me, “I picked them all up when you were in the shower and put them here!” He pointed to his now spotless nightstand.

“Is it possible we used them all?”

“Allie, no one goes through an entire box of condoms in one...” He stopped, his handsome features creasing in thought. “There was one last night, and then the shower this morning. Then...one...two...three,” he ticked off on his fingers.

“We’ve used six by my count,” I stated, throwing in my two cents.

The blush started at his neck and went all the way to the tips of his ears. “Six?” he asked, hesitantly. “Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

He lowered his eyes contritely and whispered, sheepishly, “Then I guess we DID go through a whole box. Oh, boy. I’m sorry, Allie.”

I sat up and faced my mortified friend. “What are you sorry for, Sam?”

Heaving a deep sigh, he said, “I took advantage of you.”

If he weren’t so pathetic, I would have laughed my ass off. Instead I marshaled all my self-control and divulged, “Oh, Sammy...you have a LOT to learn about women. You didn’t take advantage of me in the least. In fact, you couldn’t be further from the truth.”

“Really?” he inquired, dubiously.

“Really. You’ve given me so much happiness this weekend. So much pleasure. Memories I’ll have for a lifetime.” _And I wasn’t just talking about Allie._

“Really?” this time spoken more confidently.

“Uh-huh. And if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to return the favor.” I gave him a huge mischievous smile. “Lie down on your back.”

“What for?” he asked, even as he was following my instructions.

“I’m going to do something special for you, Sammy. If you don’t like this, tell me and I’ll stop,” I giggled, echoing his earlier words.

“What are you going to do?”

“You’ll see. Now, just lie back and enjoy.” With that, I straddled his waist; he immediately reached up to caress my boobs but I slapped his hands away.

“Hey! What was that for?”

“No touching.”

“But Allie,” he whined.

“My way or the highway, Sam. Put ‘em behind your head if you can’t control your impulses.” He groaned pitifully but did as I commanded, placing his hands under his head. I could understand his disappointment—Allie had a great rack.

Once I had him just where I wanted him, I began. First I placed butterfly kisses on his forehead, then his cheeks, across his nose, and one fleeting one on his moist lips. He let out a low sigh and tilted his head up, attempting to reestablish contact. But that wasn’t in my plans, which he quickly found out.

Next, I laid down a trail of nibbles along his throat. This time, I felt the pleasured rumble as much as heard it and knew I was on the right track.

From there, I continued to kiss downward until I reached his broad chest. I glanced up at him through my eyelashes—his eyes were fever-bright and wide. He watched as I lowered my mouth and gently took his left nipple between my teeth. The sigh turned into a long, drawn-out moan. Definitely the right track. I worried the flesh until it was nicely erect, then I began on its mate. During all this, Sam repeatedly bucked his hips against me; his iron-hard erection was resting in the cleft of my butt, and each thrust slid deliciously against my sensitive skin. But that wasn’t in the plans, either.

I heard groans of frustration as I scooted further downward. I kissed and nibbled a path down his breastbone and across his washboard stomach, spending some time letting my tongue get acquainted with his bellybutton. A plaintive, “Allie...please!” finally broke me out of my navel worship, and I began to work my way towards the main event.

Wow! It looked much bigger from this angle, but not obscenely so. Sam’s cock was just like Sam: long, lean, elegant, and beautiful. And at the moment, they were both the same shade of blush-red.

“Allie?” he called out, haltingly. “You don’t have to...”

The sound of my name woke me from my musings. Gazing up at my friend, my lover, I gave him a saucy grin—and wrapped my lips around the engorged crown. Hands threaded themselves through my hair and I released him unceremoniously.

“Allie!” he shrieked in frustration.

“No hands, remember?” I chuckled.

He glared at me, “You, you...”

“YOU better put your hands back under your head, if you want me to continue,” I challenged him.

With a groan of resignation, he once more did as I commanded. Seeing I was once more in control, I leaned down and took just the head in my mouth again.

“Oh, SHIT!” he cried out with feeling, and slammed his head into the pillows. Taking that as an encouraging sign I continued with what I was doing. Moving my mouth downwards, I took as much as I dared into my mouth (nothing ruins a good blow-job like a gagging fit) and slowly released him, only to plunge downward again and again; a litany of “Oh, oh, oh’s” accompanied my actions.

Pushing the envelope, I released him completely, moving my head lower to nuzzle and suck on his balls, taking first one then the other into my mouth. The “Oh, shit, CHRIST!” and second head slam I got for my efforts told me I had made the right choice. After spending a few minutes savoring his reactions, I went back to his cock, much to his relief.

I marveled at the myriad of textures, the silky-soft skin enveloping its hardness, the pattern of veins my tongue lovingly traced, the heat that filled my mouth. I luxuriated in the taste and smell of him, from the mild remnants of latex to the overpowering salty-sweetness of his musk. I thrilled at the symphony of lustful, heartfelt whimpers and cries that my actions produced. It was a truly heady experience, and that shocked me.

Why was I enjoying this so much? Why was I deriving so much pleasure from this act? And how did I seem to know exactly what to do?

Okay, that last one was probably from personal experience. I mean, I’d been around the block a few hundred times, and I had definitely gotten enough head in my time to know what feels good. So I was probably just using those memories here.

But that didn’t explain my own reactions to it all. The idea of sucking a guy’s cock should have filled me with revulsion, but instead, I was relishing it. Sam’s penis in my mouth felt so good, so RIGHT. It seemed like the most natural thing in the world to me.

Perhaps I was experiencing some residual emotions from Allie. It had happened to Sam when he was leaping. It was possible my strong feelings for Sam were just being enhanced by Allie’s strong feelings for him, too. And all those passionate sentiments about this man were manifesting themselves in this overpowering sexual desire I had for him.

Bullshit. It felt good. I liked it. End of report.

Only part of my mind was wasting time on all these ruminations—the other 99% of it was concentrating on pleasuring Sam. He was so responsive, so beautiful, every muscle drawn taunt like the string on a bow, his body coated in a light sheen of perspiration as he mumbled and whimpered complete nonsense. I took him in again, swallowed him whole, surprising both him and myself, getting high on him, on this.

I sensed he was close, teetering on the edge of ecstasy. It wouldn’t take much to push him over. As I pulled my mouth off him one last time, readying myself for the final assault, I licked my right index finger. I didn’t know how I knew Sam was going to like this, I just knew. Lowering my mouth back onto his straining cock, I gingerly caressed the outer ring of his anus.

That was all it took. With one final buck of his hips, he cried out, “AL!” and came.

Hearing my name ripped from Sam’s lips in the throes of passion brought me up short. I doubt he even noticed that I was no longer attached to any part of his anatomy, nor that his hips continued to thrust up into nothing as the last of his ejaculate trickled from him. He was too far gone to sense anything was wrong. But something was seriously wrong. His voice echoed in my head, and then, suddenly, pictures joined the voice:

_“Al, what are you doing?”_

_“Checking to see if your shoelaces need to be tied. What does it LOOK like I’m doing?”_

_“Are you crazy? Here in the Control Room? What if somebody sees us?”_

_“Never happen. Everyone went home for the night. It’s just us, kid.”_

_“Al, no. Stop it. Get your hand out of my pants.”_

_“You’re saying no, no, no, but this little guy’s saying yes, yes, yes.”_

_“Who are you going to listen to? Me or my penis?”_

_“In this case...”_

_“Oh, God, Al. You’re fucking insane, you know that.”_

_“Hmmm. Mmmmm...tastes good. You taste so good, Sammy.”_

_“Less talk, more tongue. Oh, oh, ohhhh boy. Yeah, like that. That’s it. Do it, Al. Right there. Suck me, hon. So good. Oh, yeah. Oh, oh...Al. Love you...love you so much. Oh, um...gonna... gonna come. Al. Yes, yes...ALLLL!!”_

And just like that, the vision was gone. But the repercussions remained. This wasn’t some residual scrap of personality left over from Alyson Davis. This was me. All me. This entire leap, all my feelings for Sam had been my OWN feelings. I...we...I remember that night in the Control Room, Sam leaning backwards against Ziggy’s command panel as I gave him a surprise hummer. And as soon as that memory was through, the floodgates opened, too many of them to assimilate at one time. All of Sam and me, together. Years and years of memories.

_We were lovers. Sam and I were lovers. Oh, shit!_

I looked down at the man in the bed. He didn’t see any signs of my revelation or my distress. He didn’t see anything because he was out like a light. Well, a good blowjob will do that to a guy. This was my opportunity to make a break for it. I couldn’t face him. I had to get away and think. Easing myself off the bed, I made my way into the bathroom. I would have gone further, but I was butt –naked. And I had started to hyperventilate.

_Lovers. We were lovers! Oh, fuck!_

I don’t remember getting in the shower. I don’t remember turning it on. I don’t remember sitting on the floor and crying. All I remembered was thinking:

_My God, what have I done?_

~xxxXxxx~

**SAM:**

I have the feeling Bena put more in that cup of tea than just Southern Comfort. I slept all night and most of the morning, probably the best sleep I’ve gotten in months. I woke up refreshed and ready to tackle the day.

First thing I did was spend some time in my office, going over paperwork for the presentation I’d be making to the Senate Subcommittee in a few weeks time. God, I hated budget reviews—and Al was always so much better at them than I was—but they were a necessary evil.

With that done, I made a short appearance in Bena’s office. She had requested that I stop in just so she could check up on me, and determine how I was handling the revelations from the night before. I convinced her I was fine with the knowledge that Al was my lover; in fact, I was finding it a comforting thought. Once I’d made peace with the idea and come to terms with it, I discovered that it wasn’t so strange after all. I remembered the dreams I had had of the two of us together and what always stayed with me afterwards were the feelings of security, happiness, and love. I hoped one day to remember all that we had shared in that first timeline.

And I couldn’t help but hope that one day, once Al was back home, we could make some new memories, too.

After my visit with Bena was over, I made a quick stop at the Waiting Room to make sure Allie was okay. I stayed and talked with her for a few minutes—it was so great to interact with her as myself and not as Dr. Miller. She really was such a sweet, charming girl. It was no wonder I had lost my heart to her all those years ago.

She asked me about the Project, and I desperately wanted to give her the grand tour, show her everything I had accomplished. I’m not normally that egotistical, but we had talked so much about our hopes and dreams—I wanted to show her how mine had come true. But I knew that was out of the question. Weitzman and the committee would’ve had my head if I dared let a leapee wander around the Project.

They couldn’t stop me from talking to her, though, and while I didn’t tell her everything we did at Quantum Leap, I did tell her some of what I had achieved after leaving school. By that point she had figured out she was in the future anyway, so I didn’t see any reason to continue lying to her, well, until she asked about her OWN future. All I could do was tell her it hadn’t been written yet, which was sort of the truth. I don’t know if she believed me; she just gave me a half-smile which clearly said, ‘You’re jerking my chain, Sam Beckett’. I should know—I’ve seen that look on Al’s face hundreds of times over the years.

Speaking of Al, it was just about time to check in on him. I had done everything I could on my end to convince Allie not to prevent me from going to Tufts when she got back to her own time—I could only hope that she would remember some of her stay with us. And so, after convincing her for the hundredth time I’d get her back to school in time for her exam, I headed off to the IC.

As his image came into focus, I was immediately struck by a feeling of déjà vu all over again. Didn’t I go through this exact same scene with Connie Duncan during the Miss Deep South competition? Al sat huddled in the corner of a bathtub, the hot shower pounding him full-blast as he sobbed his eyes out. He had been so distraught he hadn’t even bothered to close the shower door. I immediately ‘knelt’ down by the tub and asked, “Al, what’s wrong?”

“Oh, God, what have I done?” he wailed.

“I think we know what you did,” I told him, not unkindly.

“You...you know?” he sniffled.

“Yeah, Al. I know. And let’s just say I’m glad I don’t have to be the one to explain to Allie why she wasn’t around to lose her virginity.”

“She wasn’t a virgin, Sam,” he hiccupped.

I’ll admit that took me by surprise. “Um, how would you know that?”

“I read her diary, remember? There was a guy in high school. They dated for a couple of months. Then the night of the Senior Prom. . .well, according to her, it wasn’t everything it’s cracked up to be.”

“You mean the Senior Prom?” I tried to joke.

He grinned weakly. “Yeah, Sam. That’s what I meant.”

“So, that’s why you’re in here sobbing?”

“No. I. . .” He paused and swallowed. “Sammy, I remembered.”

My breath caught in my throat. “Remembered. . .what?”

“You and me. That we were lovers. That you don’t remember.”

I shook my head. “That’s where you’re wrong. I DO remember, too.”

“But. . .how? After you leaped and started changing everything—that timeline disappeared.”

“But the feelings never did, apparently. You’ve always been in my heart, Al.” I reached out to him, only to have my hand go through his arm. DAMMIT!! Just one touch—that’s all I ask for.

“And you’ve always been in mine,” Al replied, a huge smile on his face. “I may not have known it here,” and he tapped at his forehead, “but I always knew it here,” and he tapped his chest. And I almost started crying.

“Me, too, hon,” the old familiar endearment slipping out before I even knew it. “But a lot has changed. It's just--I'm not the same man I was before that first leap, Al. I...you may not want me anymore when you get home.”

“I'll always want you, Sammy. I...I love you. And I liked the way you said that.”

“What?”

“WHEN I get home. Not *IF *. Gives me hope.”

“I’ll never stop until I get you home, Al. I love you, too.” And saying it seemed to make it so. I hadn't realized until that moment just how much I loved him, and yes, I could easily see how the relationship had moved from just friendship to a more physical, sexual phase the first time around. In fact, if Al were here today—yes, I could see how it happened. “So what made you remember about us?” I asked, curiously.

“When I...when we...you called out, ‘Al’, and all these memories just flooded me.”

“Bena thought that maybe you knew all along. That would explain why you had the idea in your head to get me together with Allie. That you were subconsciously trying to be with me.”

“Yeah, well, no offense, Bena’s a nice lady, but she’s full of malarkey.”

Now that sounded like the Al Calavicci I knew and loved. “I’m sure she’s going to be happy to hear that,” I chuckled.

“Eh, she knows me well enough. She wouldn’t expect anything less.” I could tell that our little bantering session was making him feel better. He reached up and shut off the water before flashing me a dirty look. Getting his message loud and clear, I stood up and turned my back on him to give him a bit of privacy to wrap himself up. It was a few moments before he spoke again. “So, with everything I’ve done here, what does Ziggy have to say?”

“Not much. Just that Allie still flunks the exam Monday. Nothing else seems to have changed.”

“Well, that just proves my theory. Somewhere along the way, time must’ve straightened itself out, right? Maybe?”

“Maybe,” I agreed, reluctantly. So far, no matter what Al had done, it hadn’t changed the outcome of the leap, and nothing else had gone screwy— well, except for Honeypie joining the Peace Corps. As much as I hated to admit it, perhaps he was right. Perhaps some things were just preordained and our initial meeting was one of them. “There’s still a few hours left. Maybe something has yet to happen.”

“You’re such a pessimist, Sam,” he scolded.

At that point, our conversation was interrupted by a knock at the bathroom door. “Hey, Allie? You okay in there?”

“Yeah, Sam. Just taking a shower.”

“Well, it’s getting late, and I’m getting hungry, so I’m gonna run out for a pizza... and some other supplies,” he added. When I saw Al blush (AL? BLUSH?) I had a sneaky suspicion what those ‘supplies’ were. “Anything special you want on it?”

Al looked at me and shrugged his shoulders. I dialed up the information from my photographic memory and said, “She liked pepperoni and mushrooms.”

“Pepperoni and mushrooms?” he parroted.

From behind the door, we heard a light chortle. “You’re so predictable, Allie.”

“I don’t seem to recall you saying that about an hour ago,” Al shot back.

The chuckling stopped, and I didn’t have to see my counterpart to know he was red as a beet. “Allie...” he sighed. “I don’t know what to make of you sometimes.” A moment later, we heard the hollow echo of the front door opening and closing.

Al looked at me and asked, “So what do you want me to do from here?”

“Well, it’s only about 14 hours until the exam. Do you think you can stay out of trouble until then?”

One eyebrow shot into his hairline and he smirked, “Sam, look who you’re talking to.”

“Right. Okay. Here’s a direct order. Stay out of trouble. And...if I’m still feeling amorous later on tonight, well, just keep doing what you’ve been doing. At least ONE of us should be happy for a while.”

“But...what about the future?”

“Dr. Calavicci—we’re putting your theory to the test, remember? Just make sure you pass that exam tomorrow morning. The future will work itself out.” And with the vision of Allie’s thankful smile in my mind, I tapped the exit code into my wristlink, and made my leave.

~xxxXxxx~

**Monday**   
**May 18, 1973**   
**AL:**

“Al! Wake up! It’s 8:40!”

“Huh?”

“The exam! It’s in 20 minutes!”

The words don’t make sense to me. My mind’s still foggy from the early time and the late evening I had making love to Sam. “Exam?” I repeated, but as the word slips from my lips, I piece everything together. “SHIT! THE EXAM!” I rolled out of the bed, grabbed up the first clothing I see—Sam’s tee-shirt and sweatpants—and started getting dressed.

“Real attractive, Al,” Sam scoffed.

Suddenly another Sam whispered, “Allie. . .? Are you okay?”

I turned to the naked, sexy, incredible man lazing in the bed and exclaim, “My astronomy exam! I’ve gotta go.”

“Boy, have you got THAT right, Al,” MY Sam cut in. “That’s why you haven’t leaped yet. When you changed history Saturday night, then decided to spend the whole weekend in bed with me, well, with SAM, Allie ended up oversleeping Monday morning. That’s why she continued to fail the exam in all of Ziggy’s projections. So, get ready to leap out, buddy.”

“But...no. I don’t WANT to leave,” I whined, unable to hide my disappointment and desperation. “I want to stay here with you.” .

The real flesh and blood Sam Beckett climbed out of bed, naked as a jaybird, and stepped over to me, wrapping me in his strong arms. I placed my head on his shoulder and just breathed him in, basking in his heat, never wanting to leave this spot. “I wish you could stay, too, Allie,” he said softly, “but I’ll be waiting for you after the exam. And I’ll take you out to lunch to celebrate that ‘A’ I know you’re going to get.”

“But...” I tried to protest, but he was already throwing his jean jacket over my shoulders.

“Now hurry up. You don’t want to be late.”

“You better listen to him, Al,” my hologram butted in once more. “You’ve only got 15 minutes to get to the classroom!”

But I no longer cared about that. Not about the leap, not about the exam. All I cared about was Sam. I wrapped my arms around his waist and hugged him close to me.

This couldn’t be happening. I had finally been reunited with Sam, my lover, and now—and now—I was going to leap again. It just wasn’t fair! I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to stay and grow old with the man I loved, and now, since we were both so young, we’d have years, decades even, together. How could I be asked to leave all this? I’d gladly spend my life as a woman if it meant being with Sam. All I had to do was refuse to go to the exam. The leap would fail. And I could stay with the man I loved.

“AL!!” MY Sam yelled at me. “Tick-tock!”

But yet, he wasn’t REALLY the man I loved. THAT man was 25 years in the future, and a lifetime away. No matter how special this young man was, he wasn’t MY Sam. I wanted to get back to MY time, MY home...MY Sam.

But I knew that would never happen. I was doomed to be leaping forever, or until I died, whichever came first. So if I had to be stuck somewhere in time, I could do a whole helluva lot worse than this.

_Oh, fuck, I’m so tired. I can’t make this choice._

“AL! TEN MINUTES!” MY Sam was practically screaming at me now.

I stood there staring up at his younger twin—oh God, he was so handsome, so beautiful. I couldn’t tear myself away from him. He gave me a quirked smile and said, “It’s only a couple of hours, Allie. You’ll be back before you know it.” With that, he leaned down to kiss me once more.

I clung to him like a life preserver, afraid I’d drown if I ever let go. Who was I kidding? I was drowning anyway.

“AL!” MY Sam growled menacingly, and I knew he meant business. With a heavy heart, I reluctantly drew back from his solid mirror image in front me. I leaned up to give him one final kiss on the lips, whispered, “Goodbye, Sam,” and ran out the door before I could change my mind.

I must’ve gotten about halfway to the exam hall when I threw on the brakes. If Sam had really been there with me instead of running beside me as a hologram, he would’ve crashed into me and gone flying on his ass. “AL! What are you doing? You’ve only got five minutes!”

“I’m not taking another step until you tell me what happens to Allie and Sam.”

“Allie—gets a B- on the exam, which gives her a 3.12 GPA. She ended up graduating summa cum laude, went on to Harvard Medical School, and became one of the most respected pediatricians in New England. You did good, Al.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

“Oh. Well...we shared an apartment that summer—it was incredible. We had a lot of fun. A lot of love. Then, in the Fall, I went off to Tufts...”

I cut him off, “But. . .but now that none of that embarrassing stuff didn’t happen, why didn’t you stay at Syracuse?”

“Because I was getting a free ride at Tufts to study with Dr. Walter Johnson, one of the most prestigious physicists in the country at the time,” he explained.

Shaking my head angrily, I stammered, “No. I mean...you can’t leave Syracuse. You and Allie...you guys have a chance now. You two belonged together.” Dammit, if I couldn’t be home in Sam’s arms, I wanted Allie to be there. Sam deserved someone to love, someone who loved him back.

He smiled tenderly at me. “We were together—for that glorious summer. Al, we were young. We both had dreams. Allie knew she couldn’t live hers tied down to a husband and family, and I understood that. And she understood my dreams, too. Hell, she practically pushed me out the door. She was one in a million...and if it’ll make you feel better, we’ve stayed friends to this day.”

“Then why didn’t you just get back together after school was over?”

“Because by then, I was already involved with someone else—another one in a million. Someone I met at Tufts. Brilliant, gorgeous, sexy...helped me move on, made me feel free and alive again. Someone who loved me even more than Allie did—a lover beyond compare, and a friend above all others. Someone who was always there for me, someone I could trust, and who always believed in me. My one true love.”

I felt tears burning my eyes at his words. “You mean...? But I thought we didn’t become lovers until Starbright?”

His smile outshined the sun, and the love that glowed in his eyes set my heart on fire. “I’m not sure what you did to change things, Al. Perhaps I arrived at Tufts full of confidence and respect for myself—things I didn’t have the first time around. I wasn’t afraid to try new things. I...I wasn’t afraid to fall in love again. You didn’t have any barriers to break down with me, didn’t have to waste anytime rebuilding my shattered self-esteem. I always loved you, Al, but I was scared to tell you, terrified of what might happen. But this time around...it just happened, the way it was supposed to.”

The implications boggled my mind. The self-assuredness that Sam was exhibiting this weekend, so unlike the reserved and prudish Sam I had always known. *I* had done that, *I* had changed him. And because of that, we had gotten together nearly ten years earlier than in the original timeline—ten extra years of loving my boy. “Oh, Sam...” I blubbered.

“Just know that I love you, Albert, and I’m doing everything I can to get you back. And I won’t stop until you’re back home in my arms again.”

I felt the tears slide down my cheeks. “I’m holding you to that.”

Just then, our tearful farewell was interrupted by a pretty young blond strolled up to me and grasp me by the arm. “Come on, Allie, we don’t want to be late for the exam,” she chirped, dragging me down the path. I could feel the tingles of my impending leap overcoming me, and I barely had enough time to look over my shoulder and cry out, “I love you too, Sam,” before I was seized by God/Fate/Time/ Whatever...

And I leaped.

**EPILOGUE:**

Blackness. Al floated in a sea of blackness, trying to remember the last leap, trying to remember ‘home’. But there was nothing. Just blackness. Oh, and ‘The Voice’.

‘The Voice’ was again complimenting Al on a job well done, another mistake in time that he had fixed, another wrong put right. But for Al, it didn’t matter, because Al was sure the wrong he had put right was one of his own, and that brought him some measure of peace. For the first time in a long time, Al felt at peace. In fact, for some unknown giddy reason, Al wanted to even thank ‘The Voice’ for that last leap.

But the feeling wouldn’t last for long. Though he had no concept of the passage of minutes or hours or even days in this place, he knew he wasn’t in limbo for long this time around. Before he could get a grasp of what was happening, the electrical tingles rippled through his body, and he was gone.

**September 17, 1972**

The leap in was really disorienting. I found myself standing on the edge of what appeared to be a canal, facing a HUGE man dressed in what looked like safari gear and a pith helmet. A quick glance down at my host confirmed I was dressed the same way, right down to the knee-high socks. I was also, for some unknown reason, holding a tiny fish in each hand. Something about the whole thing seemed oddly familiar to me. But before I could figure it out, the big man whipped out a fucking humongous fish and whacked me upside the head with it.

The unexpectedness of the attack caused me to lose my footing and I found myself falling off the edge and into the canal, my arms flailing as I attempted to grab hold of something, the terror-filled scream ripped from my lungs:

“Ohhhhhh sssshhhiiiitttt!!!”

I splashed down into the frigid water, thankful to just be alive. The water was not as deep as one would have expected, and I nearly hit my head on the bottom of the canal. As I came up sputtering indignantly, the big man who had hit me with the fish came rushing over to the side of the wall and, leaning down, held out a hand to me. “Michael, over here,” he called out in a deep British baritone.

Wearily, I grasped his hand, almost afraid of what else he’d do to me, but all he did was help pull me up out of the drink. Another man came rushing over at that point with a fluffy terry cloth robe, which he wrapped around me, while a woman ran over with a couple of towels, which she handed to me. As I was drying my hair (must’ve lost the helmet in the canal somewhere along with my fish) yet another man approached me, a huge smile on his face.

“Michael, love—that was great. But you can’t say ‘Oh, shit’ during the fall, okay? Let’s try it again. Places, everyone. Hazel? Another costume for Mike, please?” And then he was gone as quickly as he arrived, scurrying back to his camera crew.

And as I was being stripped down out of the wet clothes and into the dry safari outfit, all I could do was once more curse out God/Fate/Time/Whatever...and hope Sam got me home.

Soon!

**THE END**

**Author's Note:**

> SONGOGRAPHY:
> 
> 1) “Last Night of the World”, from the Broadway musical, “Miss Saigon”. Lyrics by Richard Maltby, Jr. and Alain Boublil; music by Claude-Michel Schonberg.  
> 2) “Time in a Bottle”, words and music by Jim Croce.  
> 3) “What Is And What Should Never Be”, words and music by Led Zeppelin
> 
> AUTHOR'S NOTE 4: I know nothing about Syracuse University. I’ve never been there, although I was accepted to go there. I got the names of the buildings off the Internet. I hope I got them right. Also, there really is (or at least WAS) a Ziggy’s Pizzeria on the Tufts University campus. I just couldn’t resist using it.  
> AUTHOR'S NOTE 5: In case the second 'leap in' sounds familiar, it's the Fish Slapping Dance, from Monty Python's Flying Circus. The thought of either Sam or Al leaping into it has sent me into fits of giggles for years.


End file.
